Genesis
by Asylum94
Summary: Carmen was brought up with the Winchesters for most of her life. Her gruesome past is a mystery to the brothers, and something she tries to forget every day. She has a complicated and passionate romance with Sam, and a strong friendship with Dean. Set in S1 with lots of hurt/comfort, romance, and the obvious drama and humor that Supernatural always brings. Featuring a badass OC.
1. Genesis

**A/N: Hey guys, thanx for reading :) Story is set in season 1. Let me know what you think! Enjoy.**

* * *

"This is John, leave a message." The recorded voice on the other end of the phone answered. Dean sighed and flipped the phone shut.

"Still no answer?" Carmen asked.

"Nothing," he shook his head. "Where the hell could he be?"

"Dean," she glanced up at him. "We can't find him alone."

Dean hesitated, but after a moment he said, "looks like we're going to Stanford."

* * *

Dean pulled the Impala into the college parking lot and sighed. "He's not going to be happy to see us."

Carmen shrugged. "He'll be happy to see me," the side of her mouth curled up into her signature half smile.

"You know he has a girlfriend now."

Her smile vanished and she stared at him. "I know," she replied a bit defensively.

"Alright, I just don't want you to be caught off guard. I know you two used to…"

"Dean, it's fine," she said shortly.

He studied her face, and then nodded.

"You go first, I'll be up in a minute," she said.

* * *

"Come on, Sam, aren't you happy to see me?" Carmen heard Dean say jestingly. She walked into the dorm room to see the silhouettes of the two boys facing each other. Even though she couldn't see his face, she knew that Sam was scowling. They had obviously not had the warmest family reunion. She inconspicuously leaned against the dormitory wall and crossed her arms over her chest, momentarily observing the two brothers.

Dean glanced over at her, and Sam followed his gaze.

"Carmen?" He gasped in surprise.

"Hey, Sam." The side of her mouth curled up into her alluring half smile. She shrugged away from the wall and took her place next to Dean, who draped an arm around her shoulder. Sam stared.

"Yeah, grew up nice, didn't she?" Dean joked.

They both ignored him. "It's been a while," Sam stated. His eyes raked over her; her face had lost all traces of the round childlike qualities it had had when he'd last seen her. He couldn't help but notice that her body had matured just as much as her features. His eyes briefly rested on the long, familiar scar that resided just below her right eye.

"How's college life?" She asked.

"It's-" Sam began, but was interrupted by a stunning blond woman wearing nothing but a cut off t-shirt and panties walking into the room. She turned on the light.

"Sam?" She asked in confusion. "What's going on?" Her eyes found Dean and then traveled to Carmen, taking in his leather jacket with the flipped up collar and her all black attire. "Is everything okay?"

It was obvious by her puffy eyes that she had just awoken, however Carmen almost didn't believe that she'd rolled out of bed looking the way she did. Thick, dark lashes framed her sparkling blue eyes and her perfectly shaped lips seemed to be painted red. The way her hair fell unkempt down her shoulders looked more like she was returning from a photo shoot rather than rolling unexpectedly out of bed.

Carmen's eyes went wide, but it was nothing compared to Dean's reaction: his jaw actually dropped.

"Jess, I'm sorry, we didn't mean to wake you. Everything's fine. This is my brother Dean, and my…friend" Sam stumbled on the word, but Carmen was the only one to notice, "Carmen. They just came to…uh, visit."

Dean hadn't taken his eyes off of Jess once yet. He stepped forward and shook her perfectly manicured hand. "Jess, hi, I'm Dean. Very nice to meet you." He flashed her a charming grin. "Tell me, how did someone as stunning as yourself end up with my geek brother?"

Jess giggled. Carmen hated it when girls giggled. "I don't know, he must have cast a spell on me or something."

At that, Carmen's eyes snapped toward Jess, but she relaxed when she saw that she was only joking.

"Or something," Dean said under his breath. Carmen smirked.

"Ehem!" Sam cleared his throat loudly to cover up Dean's sly comment. "Dean, why don't you and Carmen just wait for me outside?"

"Wait, Sam. You're not going to introduce me to your…friend?" Jess asked innocently. Sam looked uncomfortably at Carmen.

"Hi Jess. Its nice to meet you," Carmen stepped forward with her hand extended. "Sam's told me all about you."

Jess shook her hand. "Oh, really? That's funny, he's never mentioned you," she replied with obvious venom in her voice. Her eyes narrowed.

Carmen sighed. So much for a friendly relationship. She wasn't surprised; girls tended not to like her anyway. Although she knew she could tear this girl apart with her eyes closed, she stepped back without another word. Cattiness was never her style. She was brought up with three guys; that slinky, 'mean girls' attitude just wasn't in her nature.

By accident, she caught Sam's eye; he was looking at her apologetically. She looked away.

"Listen, Jess, so sorry to steal your boyfriend away, but we need to speak to him privately," Dean said smoothly.

She looked at Sam, and then scowled at Carmen, her arms folded across her chest.

"I'll be right in," Sam assured her as he nodded to the bedroom. She rolled her eyes, but went into the bedroom obediently, closing the door behind her.

Sam turned to Dean, annoyed. "You couldn't have called or something first?"

"What fun would that have been?" Dean smirked. "Look, Sam, we came because we need your help. Dad's on a hunting trip, and he hasn't been home in a few days."

Sam's expression went from vexed to concerned to impassive so quickly that Carmen wasn't sure she had actually seen each one of them pass his face.

"So, he's always on a hunting trip. Why is this time different?"

"We can't get ahold of him." Carmen said. "We've been checking in with each other every week or so for months and-"

"Checking in?" Sam asked, perplexed.

"Yeah, checking in. Carmen and I have been hunting on our own."

"Dean, shhh!" Sam scolded. He glanced back to the bedroom door. "Can we take this outside please?"

They took the long staircase and headed for the Impala parked outside. "So, Carmen and I have been on our own for a while now, and we check in with dad once a week, only he hasn't been answering his phone!"

"How long?" Sam questioned.

"Three weeks," Carmen replied.

Sam raised his eyebrows. "That's not like Dad."

"Yeah, no shit Sherlock," said Dean. "We can't find him by ourselves, Sammy."

"Yes you can," Sam countered.

Carmen looked at him, hard. Something about him seemed different to her. "We don't want to," she said with a little bit of attitude.

Sam and Carmen locked eyes for a moment, but Sam broke the gaze. He sighed deeply. "What do you want me to do, exactly?"

"Well, we think we have a clue as to where Dad might be," Dean started as he opened the Impala's passenger side door, "so we figured we'd start looking for him there."

"You want me to come with you? To just ditch my whole life; everything I've built here and go?"

"You've done it before," Dean said venomously, referring to the way Sam had left them to go to college.

"We just want you for the weekend," Carmen said quickly, hoping to avoid conflict. She stepped in between the two brothers, who were staring each other down. Sam finally glanced at Carmen. He sighed again.

"Let me go pack some things," he said. "I'll be down in a bit. _Only _for the weekend."

He turned and took the giant staircase back up to his dorm.

* * *

"So," Dean said to Carmen as they waited for Sam, "Jess seems nice."

Carmen rolled her eyes. "Yes, Dean, I could see that you were very inclined to her. What color were he eyes again?"

"Uh, they were, uh, ya know…" His faced cracked into a smile and they both laughed.

"Exactly."

"Well, she really seemed to love you!" He said sarcastically.

Carmen let out a small chuckle. "Yeah, she was being _real_ warm. I don't get girls, Dean. They're just so _bitchy_."

"Oh, and you _never_ get like that, right?"

"Shut up," she smirked and looked out in to the deserted parking lot. "I just don't get why she was being so…so territorial."

Dean shrugged. "Maybe she could feel all that sexual tension going on between you and her boyfriend."

"Dean," Carmen shook her head, "it's not like that."

"Come on," Dean prompted. "The looks you guys were trying to stifle in there? I think the entire building was feeling the tension."

"Oh, you saw those, huh? I'm surprised you saw anything besides the Smurfs on Jess's T-shirt."

They both cracked up laughing as Sam brought his bag down from the dorm.

"What's so funny?" Sam asked with a bitter expression. He obviously wasn't thrilled about his impromptu weekend vacation.

Dean and Carmen just laughed again, and they piled into the Impala and drove off.

* * *

A few hours later, the sun was beginning to rise in front of the trio. Dean was at the wheel, with Sam sleeping in the passenger's seat and Carmen gazing out the back window. She was lost in thought. It had been so nice seeing Sam again; she had almost forgotten how much she had been missing him until she looked into his perfect green eyes. Carmen wasn't the type to wear her heart on her sleeve, but Sam always knew exactly what she was feeling. From the time John brought her back to their motel, she and Sam had had a special relationship, but she couldn't forget how much it hurt when he decided to leave them all for college.

"Hey, you guys want to stop for breakfast or something?" Dean asked. Carmen didn't hear him. He glanced over at Sam, and back at Carmen. "Food? Anyone?" Sam slept on, and Carmen didn't move.

Then Dean interrupted her musings by suddenly blasting the radio to full capacity. Sam jolted awake and looked around wildly, and Carmen jumped.

"Dean!" He exclaimed.

"Good morning sunshine, how was your beauty rest?" Dean laughed.

"It obviously worked since he woke up prettier than you," Carmen said as she rolled her eyes. Sam chuckled.

"I'm starving," Dean announced, "let's stop for grub."

They pulled into a shabby diner off the highway and trudged through the pouring rain to the two-way door. A frumpy waitress seated them, then took their orders. Dean ordered the 'hungry hiker' – two pancakes, bacon, sausage, and two eggs – and Carmen went for classic scrambled eggs with cheddar cheese.

"I'll have a glass of orange juice and three egg whites please," Sam smiled as the frumpy waitress took their menus. He glanced at Carmen and saw that her eyes were glassed over: she was lost in a memory.

_"You didn't have to do this," Sam said, grinning, as Carmen set down a plate on the shabby motel table. She simply shrugged and looked at him fondly. He was shirtless, and she could see traces of muscle beginning to blossom on his young body. Sam ate the egg whites that she had prepared for him as she picked at a bagel. She was wearing nothing but his white button down shirt, which covered her like a dress to her mid-thigh. She was no more than sixteen._

_ "Carmen, last night was amazing," he said with a look she'd never forget. Her mouth curled up into that perfect half smile, and she left her perch on the kitchen counter and eased herself into Sam's lap instead. He forgot about the egg whites, and they made love for the third time._

"Still in your own world, huh?" Sam's deep voice broke into her stupor. Her eyes focused on his.

"What?" She said, dazed. He chuckled and shook his head at her.

"You used to do this thing, where you would stare into space and no one could get your attention. I see it's still happening. Dean just got up to go to the bathroom with a crude comment and you didn't even blink."

She studied his face. She didn't realize anyone had ever caught her in her musings. Sometimes, her mind just wandered, and she wandered with it. She looked down with a sheepish half smile.

"I always used to wonder what you were thinking about," he half-whispered. "I guess that hasn't changed either." She met his gaze hesitantly. Most of the time when she mentally checked out, she was thinking about him. She wanted to tell him, but she held her tongue. "You know, when Dean showed up last night, I wasn't even surprised to see him. He's the same smartass Dean," Sam grinned in spite of himself. "But when you walked through that door…" He trailed off. She watched him half with expectancy, half with fear. But he said no more. Maybe he knew that confessing his excitement at seeing her was wrong, just like she did. She thought of Jess, and apparently he did too, because he said, "you know, Jess asked me if you and Dean were together?" He chuckled. "How ridiculous would that be?"

Carmen's face went hot instantly, and she prayed that she wasn't blushing like mad. "Yeah," she chuckled, trying to cover up her sudden discomfort. "That would be…crazy."

"Hey, I'm sorry about the way she treated you," he said. "She's not usually like that."

Carmen shook her head. "I'm sure," she said. She meant it to come out with sincerity, but it sounded sarcastic instead.

"I'm serious! She probably just saw you and felt threatened and-"

"Threatened?" Carmen interrupted him. "Why would she feel threatened? She looks like a freakin' Victoria's Secret model."

Sam laughed, but Carmen was completely serious. "Maybe," he admitted, "but, I mean, look at you." This time, she knew she was blushing. "You look like you could kick the crap out of her."

Carmen shook her head, but she knew Sam was right. While she had a very girlish figure in some ways, she had a lot more muscle tone than the average female. Her shoulders were broad from carrying shotguns all her life, and her muscular legs and abs made it obvious that she was tough.

"Hmm, maybe that's why I was never able to make any girl-friends," she thought aloud.

"Right, it had nothing to do with the fact that you traded lip gloss and short skirts for rock-salt and combat boots at the age of 7." Sam smirked. Carmen's mouth lifted into her signature half smile. "I missed you, Carmen." Her smile vanished. She didn't want to open up this particular can of worms.

Just then, Dean returned from the bathroom. "Damn, food's not out yet?"

"Dude, you were in there for, like, a minute." Sam answered, annoyed at his return. Dean's disappointment about the food vanished when he saw the waitress arrive with three plates.

As Carmen ate, she tuned out the brothers conversation once more. Sam was obviously flirting with her, but why? He was with Jess now, away at college. Any flirting they engaged in now would just hurt later when he had to leave again, and he knew that. Was he trying to hurt her?

"So, what have you guys been hunting, alone, anyway?" Sam asked, sipping his orange juice.

"Nothing too big, a few malevolent spirits here and there…we hunted a pretty nasty poltergeist right before we decided to come get you," Dean explained.

"And Dad just let you go? He didn't fight with you about it or anything?"

Dean shrugged. "You know just as well as we do that we've been trained long enough."

"Yeah, but it just doesn't seem like Dad to want to split up," Sam mused.

"Actually, he was the one who suggested it," Carmen said. "A lot has changed since you've been away, Sam."

"Yeah, and not just on our side, apparently. Got yourself quite a girlfriend there, didn't ya?" Dean winked at Sam over his forkful of pancake.

Sam chanced a glance at Carmen, who was now staring into her plate. He thought he saw a faint blush in her cheeks.

"She's really somethin', Sammy. How long you guys been together?"

"I'll be right back," Carmen said as she hastily got up from the table. She really didn't want to hear anything more about Sam's girlfriend. She slipped out the front door and leaned against the side of the deserted diner. She barely had time to light a cigarette when Sam came out and spotted her.

"You're smoking now?" He asked, disappointment in his voice. She flashed him a look that said _obviously, don't you see the lit cigarette in my hand?_ She flicked the ashes and took a long drag, purposefully not meeting his gaze. "When did this start?"

"I don't know, few months after you left?" She stated, but it sounded like a question. "Why do you care, anyway?"

"I don't," he said defensively.

"Fine, then go back inside and let me smoke in peace, please." She turned away from him.

"Look, I'm sorry. I know that hearing about Jess is the last thing you want to do, but-"

"Sam, you left two freaking years ago. I've had plenty of time to accept it and move on. I don't care about you and your girlfriend, it's none of my business." She didn't see how her words cut Sam because her back was to him, but she could feel it in the following silence.

Dean emerged from the diner doors and before he could say anything, Sam started on him.

"She's smoking?" He said, outraged. "You let her smoke?"

"He doesn't have to _let me_ do anything, Sasquatch. What's your problem; just let it go."

"I fought with her hand and foot, but she's not quitting," Dean said, completely ignoring her. They made their way to the Impala.

"Yeah, we'll see," Sam said under his breath.

"Excuse me?" Carmen challenged. She grabbed his hand and whirled him around to face her. "I just told you that you and your girlfriend are none of my business, because, if you recall _you left_! That means you're no longer allowed to have an opinion on what I will or will not do. Butt. Out."

"I'm not going to just let you keep doing something that'll one day kill you!"

"Oh, please, Sam, the job's going to kill me a lot sooner than a cigarette."

"Hey, can you two stop it, please?" Dean yelled over their row. "We haven't been back together a day and already we're all butting heads. Just cool down, alright?"

Carmen sighed. "He's right," she said. "Let's just get on the road."

Sam nodded, but when Dean turned his back, he plucked the cigarette from between Carmen's lips and stomped on it.

* * *

"So, where we headed to anyway?" Sam asked as they got back on the road. After Carmen practically gave Sam a black eye, Dean was able to cool them down enough to at least get back in the same car together.

"Floyd, Indiana." Dean responded. "It's where Dad was headed the last time we checked with him. Carmen and I hunted a spirit there a few years back, so we know the area."

"It was our first hunt without John," Carmen reflected. Dean nodded.

"What was Dad heading to Indiana for? A hunt?"

"Well, that's the interesting part. He never told us. We didn't think anything of at the time, but-"

"Now you think it has something to do with The Demon." Sam finished.

"I think it might," Dean said.

"I don't." Carmen interjected. Sam turned in his seat to look at her. "This thing has been dormant for over 20 years. Why would it suddenly come out of hiding now?"

"We don't know that it was dormant, and we don't know it was in hiding," Dean corrected.

"Then where has it been?" Carmen retaliated. "Why hasn't it been attacking people all these years? No, I don't think that thing will ever be found. It's something else that tripped up John."

"Well…we'll see in a few hours."

* * *

It was twilight when they arrived at the first motel they could find in Floyd. They checked in, but got right back on the road, looking for clues as to where John might be. Dean rolled towards the lake in town. A man they helped on their hunt a few months back worked there, and they thought that he might have information to John's whereabouts. Dean pulled into the parking lot, and they piled out.

"Can I help you kids?" A gruff man with a thick straggly beard yelled to them as his eyes raked skeptically over the Impala. They walked toward him.

"Yeah, hi, we're looking for a man named Weber?" Dean said back. "Alexander Weber, you know him?"

"What do you want with him," the gruff man questioned.

"We just want to speak to him, sir." Sam explained.

"Well, sorry to be bear'r bad news," the man said, "but Alex Weber passed away 'bout a month ago."

"Oh, we're sorry," Sam said sympathetically.

"How did it happen?" Carmen asked with no sympathy. Sam shot her a glare.

"Someone attacked him. It was pretty gruesome. He was walkin' home from a night workin' late on the lake, an' someone slit his throat." Dean caught Carmen's eye. That sounded more like a demonic MO than a human one.

"That's horrible," Sam said.

"Yeah, he was a decent man. Got a lot o' people lookin' for him after he passed. Few weeks back, had another guy come through here askin' 'bout Alex, too."

The trio exchanged looks.

"This guy," Dean asked, "he a little taller than me? Black hair, scruffy beard…"

"Yeah, that's him. You know him?"

"Did he have a name?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, John somethin' I think."

* * *

"So Dad was here!" Dean said as soon as they were back in the safety of the Impala.

"Yeah, three weeks ago. He could be anywhere in the country by now!" Sam shook his head in disappointment.

"So we'll catch the trail. That guy said he saw Dad's truck in the parking lot of the same motel we're staying at now. We just have to ask around." Sam looked skeptically over at his brother. "What? Don't you wanna find Dad?"

"Of course, Dean, but-"

"But what?"

"Look, there's no way we're going to find him by tomorrow night, and I need to get back to Stanford."

"So you're just going to ditch Dad for school, is that it?"

"Dean, my entire future is riding on this interview!"

They pulled into the motel parking lot. Sam wrenched his door open and heatedly stepped out. He turned and walked away from the motel.

"Where the hell are you going?" Dean shouted as he and Carmen got out of the car.

"For a walk," Sam answered, his back still turned. Dean turned to Carmen.

"I'll go, you ask around for news on John." Dean nodded, and she went to catch up with Sam.

His long legs carried him swiftly down the road, but Carmen caught up quickly. She said nothing, but fell into stride beside him. He sighed, and also said nothing, but grabbed her hand and laced his fingers through hers. An electric shock traveled through her, originating from the place where he touched her skin. It made her heart beat faster, and she prayed that Sam didn't notice. Once again, she wondered why he was doing this. She went to pull her hand away, but something made her hesitate. Her mind went to Jess once more.

"You know why I have to go," he stated, but it sounded like a question to Carmen. "This isn't the life that I wanted…I never wanted to leave you and Dean, but…"

"I understand," she replied. "It sucks, but I understand. And so does Dean. He's just worried about John…and you."

"Me? Why?"

"Come on, Sam. He truly believes that the reason John isn't calling is because of The Demon. And he's betting it's not just after John…you're a lot harder to protect when you're miles away from us."

"Us?" Sam asked. He looked over at her.

She nodded. "I've been worried too." She looked up at him; he was over a foot taller than her, even with her black combat boots on.

"_You're_ worried about _me_?" He scoffed. "That's a new one."

"What, I'm not allowed to think about you?"

"No, you are, it's just…I've been worrying about you for ten years. It's weird that it's the other way around now." Her face went hot.

"Why would you worry about me, Sam," she rolled her eyes.

He stopped walking and turned to her. "You know why," he said softly, but with a fire in his eyes. His sudden intensity caught her off guard. She stared up into his eyes, mesmerized. She waited with bated breath.

"Because this job is dangerous…and you know that I couldn't handle it if anything ever happened to you."

She swallowed hard. She studied his face and felt as if his deep-set green eyes were ex-raying her. She'd forgotten how those eyes could practically stop her heart.

"Look, I'm sorry I gave you a hard time before." He said, resuming their walk. "I guess I was just…"

"I'm sorry, too." He held her hand a bit tighter, and they trudged on in comfortable silence until Carmen's phone buzzed.

"Yeah," she said into the receiver. She listened for a beat, and then her eyes snapped up to Sam's. "Be right there."

* * *

"The front desk guy said Dad rented the room for the whole month," Dean explained when Sam and Carmen reached him. He was holding a room key and leading them around the motel. "I swiped the master key from the desk; we gotta see what's in there."

Carmen looked over her shoulder as Dean unlocked the door and they step inside. The smell of something rotten hit her immediately. Dingy curtains were drawn over the windows, allowing an opaque light to filter through them. The walls were covered with papers ripped from books, napkins with doodles and motel paper with various numbers scrolled in a feverish manner. The trio scanned the room; Sam examined a half eaten burger while Dean and Carmen studied the artificial wallpaper.

"He didn't want to leave," Carmen said quietly. "He was rushed out. He never would have left all this."

Dean stooped to pick something up from the ground. When Carmen saw what it was, her eyes went wide. "Oh, my God," she whispered. Sam came up behind her and looked over her shoulder at what Dean had in his hands.

"Dad's journal." He exchanged a look with Dean, who began flipping through the pages.

"There's a page marked," Dean said. He opened to the flagged page and revealed a five-digit code. "Coordinates?"

"Looks like it." Carmen answered.

"Well let's go! We have to catch the trail while it's still hot."

"You call this hot?" Sam mumbled.

"Excuse me?" Dean narrowed his eyes at Sam. "Got something to say smartass?"

"Dean," Carmen cautioned.

"Dean, I can't just _go_, and you know that! I have to get back-"

"Back to Stanford, yeah, I know! So, you know what? We'll drop you off, you can go back to your cookie cutter life and your pretty blond girlfriend, and Carmen and I will get back to rescuing Dad!"

"Fine!"

"Fine!"

Sam stalked past Dean and left the motel room, slamming the door behind him. Carmen sighed.

"Dean, yelling at him isn't going to do any good."

"How can you be so calm about this? He walked out on you, too!"

"Yes, and I missed him, but he's right; he has the right to choose his life. We can't choose for him."

Dean sighed. "Alright, well, I guess we've got a stop to make before we can see about those coordinates. Better get on the road."

"Dean, relax. Let's stay the night. We already paid for the room."

"Yeah, okay," he sighed. He made to leave the motel room, but Carmen stopped him.

"We've got one more thing to do before we leave," Carmen said. Her eyes looked around at the papers plastered on the walls, and Dean caught on. They ransacked the walls, stuffing the papers into Carmen's duffel bag. They cleaned John's prints from everything he could have touched, threw away the old food and cleared out the few clothing items John had left behind. If anyone checked the place, they would never know that a hunter had stayed there.

When they got back to their motel room, Sam was in the shower.

"Try not to fight," Carmen warned as they heard the water shut off. Dean scowled at her.

"We decided to stay the nig-" she stopped mid sentence as she turned and saw Sam come out of the bathroom with nothing but a towel around his waist. Her mouth dropped open for a moment as she gawked at Sam's perfectly chiseled stomach and his bulging chest. Her heart skipped a beat, but she recovered herself almost immediately.

"Ehem, the night, since we already paid for the room," she finished, her voice a bit more breathy than when she started. She felt her face grow hot.

"Sounds good," Sam said as he reached over her to grab his duffel bag. She swallowed hard, and prayed Sam couldn't hear her heart pounding beneath her chest. He retreated to the bathroom once more, and Carmen looked up to see Dean smirking like a complete jerk.

She punched him in the arm, quickly changed into sleepwear, and got into bed.

* * *

Sam awoke with a start that night from a very vivid nightmare. He was breathing hard, and sweat drenched the sheets around him. It took him a moment after he awoke to remember where he was, and why he was not swimming in a sea of blond locks like he normally was.

As he got his bearings, his breathing evened out and his heart rate slowed. He swallowed hard, and tilted his head to look at the clock: 4:35am. He caught a glimpse of Dean, mouth ajar, sleeping peacefully in the bed next to him. Between his and Dean's beds was Carmen's cot. He looked down at her, and was surprised to see her eyes wide open. The faint light coming from the moon outside the window illuminated the scar below her eye.

"You okay?" She whispered, staring up at the ceiling.

Sam took a deep, steadying breath. He wished she hadn't heard him in the midst of his nightmare. "Yeah," he muttered, "just a bad dream. What are you doing awake? It's almost 5am."

Carmen didn't answer, just continued staring at the ceiling. Sam exhaled a tiny laugh. "Oh, that's right, I almost forgot. You don't sleep."

She clenched her jaw, and her face flooded with anger. Thankfully, Sam couldn't see through the darkness. She had to remind herself that he didn't know the reason she could never willingly let herself sleep, and that if he did, he would never joke about it this way.

When she was calm enough again, she said, "go back to sleep, Sam."

"I don't think I can," he muttered. Carmen finally tore her eye from the ceiling to look at him. "I haven't slept in weeks, Carmen."

She could tell he was confiding in her. He hadn't told anyone else about this, and it was bothering him. "Why not?" She asked in a whisper.

"Nightmares. Every single night, the same nightmares." He sighed. "I can't get them to stop."

"When did they start?" She asked sympathetically. Sam was the only person in the world that could provoke sympathy in her.

"The night I left," he said without hesitation. "The last night we…" He trialed off, lost in the memory of their last night together. He looked over at her with sad eyes, and she held his gaze.

And then he moved, and it was like they had both been expecting it all along. He scooted to the end of his bed and eased himself down into the cot next to her. She laid her head on his chest, and he wrapped his arms around her. He had almost forgotten how perfectly her tiny form fit beside him.

Carmen's mind screamed at her, warned her against the intimacy. But every fiber of her body wanted nothing more than to stay next to him, wedged in this tiny cot, forever.

* * *

When Carmen awoke the next morning (after grudgingly telling herself she needed to get at least an hours worth of sleep) she was alone. At first she felt a pang of regret that Sam hadn't lingered in bed, but then Dean snored loudly and she remembered his presence. She heard the shower running; Sam must have gotten up early.

She climbed quickly out of bed, dressed, and hopped playfully on Dean's bed. He groaned in protest.

"Rise and shine, sleeping beauty," she teased.

"Son of a bitch," he muttered, pulling the covers up over his head. Carmen ripped them away, and planted a kiss right on his cheek.

"Get up," she whispered with authority in his ear.

It took awhile, but they were on the road by that afternoon, and reached Stanford by nightfall.

Sam and Carmen got out of the Impala, but Dean didn't move from the drivers seat.

"So…if Dean starts to bug you too much, feel free to call," Sam said as he lifted his bag from the trunk. Carmen looked up at him through her lashes, and allowed him to catch that half smile that he loved.

"Don't say that; I'd be calling you every five minuets," she joked. Sam chuckled. "I'll keep you posted on John, though."

He nodded. "I should get back…Jess is excepting me."

"Yeah. Bye, Sam." And then he was gone.

Carmen sat on the trunk of the Impala, staring at the door he had disappeared through. She hugged her knees to her chest, and wished he didn't have to go.

She heard the engine of the Impala cut, and observed, from the corner of her eye, Dean coming to lean on the trunk with her. She didn't take her eyes off the last place she saw Sam. Dean put a comforting hand on her shoulder, but she pushed it off.

"Come on, Carmen, don't torture yourself. Like you said; we can't choose his life for him." She said nothing, but hopped off her seat on the Impala and made her way to the passenger's seat. Dean followed, but as they opened their doors to leave, everything changed.

Suddenly, the streetlights began to flicker. Carmen took a deep, cold breath, and her exhale was visible in the night air. The warm May evening became wickedly cold in an instant, and the light from the stars and moon above them disappeared. Carmen looked at Dean with terror in her eyes, and then they heard a woman's blood-curdling scream emit from the college building.

They sprang into action, slamming the Impala doors shut simultaneously. Dean opened the trunk to grab a rock-salt loaded shotgun, but Carmen wasted no time. She kicked open the door to the dorm building and sprinted up the winding stairs to Sam's room.

Flames licked at the ceiling and walls, but Carmen busted through the half opened door anyway. The heat was almost unbearable, but she forgot about it when she looked around the charring room and encountered the disturbing sight.

"Jess!" Sam screamed in desperation. She was pinned to the ceiling in a gruesome tableau, burning with the rest of the room. "Jess, NO!"

Dean burst through the door behind Carmen, and attempted to drag Sam out of the room.

"Come on, Sam let's go! NOW!" Sam fought him, but Dean forced him out.

Carmen climbed on the bed, barely finding a flameless place to put her feet. She reached as far as she could to grab Jess's hand, hoping that by some miracle she could rescue her, but at that moment an eruption of flames engulfed her body. Carmen threw her arms up in protection, and there was nothing she could do but retreat from the room.

When she got out of the building, the city had already responded. Frantic firemen rushed past her, hoses in hand, but she knew it was no use now. Jess would be nothing but ash. As the cool air hit her skin, Carmen realized that her arms had been badly burned where she had protected her face from the malevolent flames. She looked down at her forearms; they were an angry red, with blood oozing from spots where the skin was completely gone. Before she knew it, Dean had grabbed her and led her to where the Impala was hidden from the sirens and commotion.

Dean was speaking to her, but she didn't hear him; all of her attention was focused on Sam. He was sitting on the curb, partially hidden from her view by the Impala. The expression on his face hurt Carmen more than the peroxide Dean was pouring into her wounds.

"I'm sorry," she whispered so low that Dean, who was standing right in front of her with her arms in his hands, couldn't hear. She knew Sam couldn't hear either, but at that moment, he looked up at her, and the sadness in his look was more than she could bear.


	2. Blind

Sam awoke with a start in the passenger seat of the Impala. The nightmare he'd been awakened from had been a particularly disturbing one. He looked around wildly for a moment and, getting his bearings, glanced over at Dean, who was staring pointedly out at the road ahead of him. Carmen sat in the backseat with one headphone popped in her ear and the other dangling haphazardly around her neck.

Sam sighed. He had the suspicious feeling that he had just interrupted a conversation.

Dean glanced over at him. "You alright?" He asked cautiously. It was as if Sam was a land mine, and they were treading carefully as not to set him off. He _had_ been snippy after Jess's death, but they needed to cut him some slack. He glanced at Carmen's reflection in the rearview mirror. She quickly averted her eyes.

"Guys, I'm fine. Really," he assured them, but he sounded unconvincing even to himself. "I just think, maybe, we should have stuck around Stanford a little while longer." It had been a week since Jess's death.

"Sam, we searched high and low, the demon was gone. We just would have wasted more time if we stuck around." Dean told him matter-of-factly.

_Maybe it wasn't for the demon's sake that he wanted to stick around, _Carmen thought to herself, _maybe it was Jess._

"Where to next, anyway?" Sam asked. Carmen leaned forward between the seats as Dean reached over Sam into the glove compartment, which contained no gloves, and pulled out a road map and John's journal. He handed it all over to Sam.

"You tell me, Sammy. Check those coordinates that we found in Dad's journal." Carmen watched as Sam traced his finger over the map, searching for the junction of the latitude and longitude.

"Looks like somewhere in Illinois. Pretty far north. Got an Illinois road map?" Carmen dug in the back seat and pulled out what Sam needed. "Boone, Illinois. What's dad sending us there for?"

Dean shrugged. "He'll have his reasons. Maybe that's where he's holding up."

"Yeah, maybe." Sam said in a low voice. "I hope so," he said more passionately, "because if he was able to leave us coordinates to follow, why couldn't he have just picked up the phone? Tell us where he is? Why are we playing this game of cat and mouse with him?"

"Sam, come on, there are a million reasons why he might not be able to call us."

"Like what?"

"Like, maybe he thinks he's being followed. Maybe he's on a really dangerous hunt."

"Both perfectly good reasons to call us and ask for help. Why doesn't he want us around?" Sam shook his head in frustration.

"Maybe he's closing in on the demon," Carmen chimed in. "Maybe he knows that you two will bring your emotions into the fight, especially you, Sam, and he doesn't want you two getting hurt. Maybe he doesn't want to loose any more family than he already has." She leaned back in her seat and looked at the side of Sam's head. "Maybe he doesn't want you two loosing any more people than you already have." Sam looked at her in the review mirror. This time she held his gaze, and the unspoken acknowledgement of Jess's death hung in the air between them.

"Well, we can speculate all we want," Dean said, "but we won't know until we get there." He turned up the radio and sped the Impala down the road.

* * *

It was evening by the time the trio reached Boone. Carmen had been researching the town on her laptop from the car, and found that four local disappearances had taken place in the last two months. All of them, Carmen noticed, were females around her age, but she decided not to mention that to Sam and Dean just yet. John was definitely sending them to this city on a hunt. They planned on checking into a motel and then speaking to the family of the girl who had most recently disappeared, but, upon coming into the town, they reached a roadblock.

Carmen looked out through the front windshield. Blue and red sirens spun round from the tops of police cars, and pedestrians stood just outside the yellow crime scene tape that was encircling a nearby house. Firemen were examining the home, while policemen spoke to various people on the street. Sam, Dean and Carmen seemed to have just missed the action.

"You think this could be another disappearance?" Dean asked Carmen as they parked the Impala a few blocks off and made their way through the crowd.

"Looks like it," Carmen responded. "Fifth one in two months." She shook her head in disappointment.

They reached a tall, thin officer with a thick brown mustache. He had just finished speaking to a witness.

"Officer," Dean greeted. "What happened here?"

"Matthews girl disappeared from her backyard. You knew her?"

"Yeah, she was a friend from high school," Carmen lied without hesitation. "Did somebody take her?"

The cop scrutinized her. "There's no sign of that."

"But she was my age," Carmen persisted. "She didn't just _disappear _from her own back yard. There have been other disappearances, similar to this one, recently, haven't there?"

"There's no sign that Mel's disappearance has any connection with the others. But if you three know something…"

"No, sir. I was just a friend."

The cop handed her his card. "In case you think of anything," he said with a trusting smile. Carmen resisted the urge to roll her eyes in his face.

"Well worked," Dean commented as the cop found another witness to interrogate. "How did you know she was your age?"

"Because all the people that disappeared were my age. And all of them were female."

"Oh, you've got to be kidding me."

They decided to wait until the next night to search the house. Just like always, they spent the night in a shabby motel outside of town.

Carmen was awake long after Sam and Dean had fallen asleep on their lumpy motel mattresses. It was dark throughout the room, and the soft music that played through her headphones – the masterpieces of The Band – was her only companion.

A movement from the bed next to her caught her eye. Sam was restlessly tossing and turning beneath the covers. When she popped out her headphones, Sam's groans of discomfort reached her ears. She recognized that he was suffering from a nightmare, being very familiar with the signs herself. Sympathy for him welled up inside her.

More groans and sighs from Sam's bed. She felt intrusive, listening to his dreams, as if she was unintentionally ease dropping. She decided to wake him. "Sam," she whispered as she shook him. His eyes popped open and he shot upright.

"Sam, its okay, you're fine." She said soothingly. "It was just a dream."

Putting his head in his hands, he heaved a deep sigh. "Yeah, just a dream."

Carmen scrutinized his miserable face. "Sam…" She began reluctantly. "These nightmares you've been having. Are they…I mean, it is because of…Jessica?"

"What?"

"Because if they are, you can always…I mean, I just want you to know that…" She sighed. It wasn't easy talking to the man she was once in love with about his new – and now deceased – girlfriend. "I know you really cared about her. Dealing with this can't be easy for you, and its possible that I'm the last person you want to hear this from but…I'm here for you…if you need anything."

At her words, a swell of gratitude gripped Sam unexpectedly. "Thanks, Carmen. It has been tough dealing with her death, but…probably not for the reasons you think."

"What do you mean?"

He looked away from her and gazed out the window, watching a black cat with white paws slink stealthily over a nearby fence. There was pain in his face, and something more that Carmen couldn't quite determine.

"I want to tell you, Carmen. I want to tell you everything, but I don't think I can yet. There are some things that just…"

"Can't be said," she finished for him.

He turned his eyes back to her, and felt that she would understand better than anyone the things he was concealing.

* * *

"Dean, we can't just keep her on house arrest." Sam bellowed the next afternoon.

"The hell we can't! She's exactly the type of victim the demon's after!"

"We're not even hunting the demon yet, we're just scoping out the crime scene."

"Doesn't matter. I'm not letting her-"

"Letting me what?" Carmen asked, walking out of the bathroom with only a towel under her arms.

The boys exchanged looks, and it wasn't lost on Carmen. Neither of them said anything.

"Alight, you guys ogle at each other for a little while longer, I'm going to go get ready for the hunt." She said.

"No need," Dean declared. "You're staying here."

"Dean," Sam said, but was ignored.

"I'm staying here? Why?" She raised her eyebrows at him.

"You know why."

"No, I don't." She retorted defensively.

"Because you're exactly the demon's type, and we're not risking it."

"Dean, we 'risk it' every single time we go on a hunt. This time's no different. I'm coming, and there's nothing you can do to stop me." She grabbed her clothes and walked briskly back into the bathroom.

Sam smirked. He was impressed by Carmen's resilience despite the fact that he knew she would never let Dean stifle her. Dean punched him in the arm.

A few hours later the trio arrived at the crime scene, which was now deserted. The sirens had be silenced, the crowd dispelled, and the cops vanished. Now, it only looked like a lonely house surrounded by trees.

"No one's home; the girls mother went to stay with her sister a few towns over." Carmen informed Sam and Dean. "Too afraid to face her house alone, I guess."

"Father?" Sam asked.

"Split when she was a kid. Hasn't been around for years."

"And you know all this how?" Dean asked skeptically.

"I asked around when I went to get dinner." She answered distractedly while she watched Dean load his pistol and stuff it into the back of his jeans. "What are you doing? We're not gonna need that; its just a crime scene."

Dean shrugged. "Can't be too careful."

Carmen squinted at him as they walked up the secluded driveway, blatantly ignoring the CRIME SCENE DO NOT CROSS yellow tape. "What's with you? Why are you all Mr. Cautious all of a sudden?"

"I'm not," said Dean defensively. "I'm just…I'm not, okay?"

Carmen looked over at Sam, expecting him to mirror her own mocking grin, but instead she saw him scrutinizing his brother. Her grin subsided.

"I'll search the backyard where Mel disappeared, you two take the house." Dean made his way around the back while Sam picked the lock on the front door.

"What's with Dean tonight?" She asked when Dean was out of sight.

Sam sighed. "Carmen, nothing's with him. He's worried about you. You should cut him a break."

She made a frustrated noise in her throat. "Well, he shouldn't be." The door swung open and they stepped inside the very average house.

"I'm going to check upstairs, you keep searchi-"

"I'll come with you." Sam cut her off and made his way towards the stairs. She put a hand on his shoulder to stop him.

"Sam, I'll be fine. I promise. Stop worrying. Search this floor, and the basement if there is one. We'll get out quicker that way, okay?"

Sam sighed, but shook his head in acquiescence. "Just…be careful, alright?"

She rolled her eyes, but her stomach fluttered at the sincerity in his voice.

Mel's room was an average 19-year-old's room: beige walls, a small flat screen mounted on the wall, neatly made bed. Carmen found nothing out of the ordinary. She crossed the hall to the bathroom, where she also found nothing extraordinary. She briefly moved the curtains away from the window, and her heart skipped a beat.

The window looked down into the backyard. Upon glancing out of it, Carmen saw Dean's limp body lying spread-eagled on the grass.

"Shit!" She exclaimed as she sprinted out of the bathroom and raced down the stairs. She saw the basement door slightly ajar – Sam must be down there.

"Sam!" She called, but didn't slow as she darted through the back door. She reached Dean in seconds and knelt down next to him.

The first thing she checked was that he was still breathing. She put her ear to his mouth and heard the rush of air entering and exiting his lungs. She sighed in relief.

"Dean, hey, hey!" She gently tapped his face and he came around quickly.

"Carmen?" He asked, disoriented. His eyes darted around at his surroundings, and then rested on the mass of trees that secluded the house.

"Get inside the house. Now." The fear in his voice drove her into obedience, but she never made it into the house. Something suddenly darted out of the woods and tackled her.

"Carmen!" Dean exclaimed. He had his pistol cocked and aimed in less than a second, but the monster stood facing him with Carmen in front of it as a shield.

Just before the demon took her into the trees, Sam appeared in the doorway. Their eyes met, and time seemed to slow so much so that it felt to both of them as if it were barely moving at all. Sam silently said so much to her in that everlasting moment. He told her that he was sorry that he let her get captured; that he was terrified of losing her; and that he would get her back no matter what.

The moment ended, and the demon took Carmen into the trees and disappeared.

* * *

Carmen was drifting in and out of consciousness, her head pounding with pain. A warm, sticky liquid trickled from her hairline down her neck. She opened her eyes, but the blackness surrounding her pressed painfully down on them. She could find no light filtering through to her eyes.

She felt a dull pain in her wrists, and realized that they were shackled. So were her ankles.

"Shit!" she cursed loudly. Her voice echoed around the room. She pulled violently at the chains binding her, and the rattling reverberated around the room as well. It sounded as if she was in some kind of dungeon or sewer…

Sewer.

Shit!

She was in the sewer, and it wasn't the darkness that disabled her sight. It was the thing that took her. A grimlock: the monster that steals the sight of its victims in order to see light around good people and kill them. It stole her sight, and she was completely blind.

She struggled once again against the chains that bound her. Her skin scraped along the rough concrete beneath her, but she didn't care. There was nothing she could do but helplessly struggle.

How could she let this happen?

How could she let Dean be right? He was never going to let her live this down…

If she lived at all.

A noise from her left made her jump, but it didn't sound threatening. She heard a soft moan of pain as someone else's quick breathing filled the silence around the room.

"Mel?" Carmen called softly. "Mel Matthews?"

"Yeah," her shaky voice responded, "it's me. Who are you?"

"My name's Carmen. I know this won't make you feel any better but…I'm here to rescue you."

Mel let out a shaky laugh. "Actually, it makes me feel loads better. I didn't know if I was ever going to see another person besides that guy who took me again…and I use the word 'see' loosely."

"He took your sight, too, then."

Mel answered with a deep sigh.

"I'm sorry this happened to you, Mel." Carmen said softly. "And I'm sorry to have to tell you this but…that thing that took us? It isn't human."

Mel was silent for a moment. She was probably debating whether or not Carmen was insane.

"If it isn't human," she asked after a while, "then what the hell is it?"

"A grimlock. I guess you could classify it under 'monster'. It steals sight in order to see and kill good people. This one seems to have a thing for young women."

"Are you crazy?" Mel asked. It wasn't an accusation or malicious; it was a serious question.

"It's been said. But I'm right about this. How do you think he blinded us?"

"I don't know; chemicals, some kind of drug…"

"How do your eyes feel? Are they burning? Do you feel drowsy like he drugged you?"

"No," Mel answered honestly.

"He didn't use chemicals. He didn't drug you. He supernaturally stole your eyesight. I'm sorry, Mel." And Carmen really was sorry.

"This is the thing responsible for all the disappearances in town, isn't it? And in the next town over?"

"What happened in the next town over?"

"Good people are being murdered all over the place. Pastors, volunteer firemen… you said this thing takes the lives of good people, right?"

"Yeah, it does. Shit, I hope Sam and Dean can figure this out."

"Sam and Dean?" Mel asked.

"Friends. We kind of hunt these types of things together. They're looking for us, but I never got a chance to tell them that it's a grimlock we're up against. I didn't get a chance to tell them a lot of things, actually." The image of Sam in the doorway swam into her mind. She thought that it was possibly the last image she would ever see of him.

"When I got here," said Mel "there was another girl. She didn't talk much, but after I was here for a while, the thing…it…it killed her." Her voice got high and constricted. Carmen could feel the terror seeping into her heart. "I think…I think...It's going to…"

"Mel, you're going to be fine, alright?" Carmen said reassuringly. "I promise; it's not going to hurt you. We're going to make it out of here, okay? Both of us."

"Okay," Mel said, calming at the sound of Carmen's soothing voice. "Okay."

* * *

After what felt like hours of being chained on the cold, moist, rough concrete, Carmen heard the heavy door scraping against the ground and felt a cool draft pass over her exposed torso. She hadn't realized before now that she had been stripped of her shirt and jeans, and was dressed in only the sports bra and spandex that were always underneath her clothing. She moved away from the noise, scared because she couldn't see who or what was entering through the door. She waited in the pregnant silence, praying to hear Sam's deep voice at any moment.

A rancid smell reached her nose and she knew it wasn't Sam and Dean.

"Mel," she whispered. "Don't move."

She could hear Mel's breathing quicken, and she thought she could hear her heart rate increase. Although she tried to stifle them, Mel's sobs of terror filled the room.

The thing in the room began to laugh mirthlessly. Carmen heard its footsteps shuffle towards Mel. It knelt down beside her. She heard Mel's terrified sobs become more intense. "No, no!" she cried desperately.

"Get away from her!" shouted Carmen. The monster's head whipped around as if he was surprised that Carmen was even in the room with them. He slowly came over and knelt down next to her instead. The closeness made her skin tingle unpleasantly. She scooted as far away from it as the shackles would allow, but its ragged breathing still got closer and closer until she could feel its hot, rank breath in her ear. "So beautiful," it whispered.

Carmen took a deep breath and slammed her head against the grimlock's nose with a loud WHAM, making it jump back and cry out in pain. Her headache got worse, but relief flooded through her when the monster retreated out the door from which it came.

"You alright?" Carmen called to Mel, a little delirious herself from the head injury.

"Uh-huh," she answered shakily. "You?"

"Been better," she answered.

"What did you do, punch it?"

"My arms are shackled," she could hear her own words slurring. "I head-butted him…"

"Carmen? Carmen! You might have a concussion…don't go to sleep, okay? Carmen?"

"Hhmm?"

"You've gotta stay awake. We're both making it out of here, remember?"

"Yeah." She fought to keep her blind eyes open. "Yeah, I know we are." Mel's voice made it easier to fight the impending sleep threatening to overtake her.

Another noise outside made the haze fade even more. She strained her ears to hear what was coming, but there was no need. The heavy door scraped once again against the rough concrete floor.

"No, no, no…" Mel cried once more, but her cry was unnecessary. The second that the door opened and the cool breeze blew through the room, Carmen knew that they were saved. Sam's scent hit her like a tidal wave; it was the smell of comfort, the smell of salvation, the smell of love.

"Sam," she whispered so softly that she thought no one could hear it but her.

* * *

Sam knew once he opened the door that Dean and he were right: it was a grimlock that took Carmen, and it stole her sight. He could see from across the room that she was already blind. The caramel colored eyes that he knew better than anyone else's, and that knew his just the same, had been zapped to electric blue. They stood out against her tanned skin and dark hair in an eerie contrast.

Before he could react, he heard her say his name, her voice saturated with relief. Despite her blindness, she knew he was there.

"Carmen," he cried, rushing to her side. He dropped to his knees next to her and placed one enormous hand around her waist, and one on her cheek. The warmth felt so comforting.

"Sam, I'm so happy to see you…figuratively speaking."

"Carmen, I'm so sorry. Don't worry, I'm going to get you out of here."

"I know," she cooed. "Where's Dean?" She asked as Sam picked the locks on the shackles.

She didn't have to wait long for her answer. Dean came stumbling through the entrance, breathing heavily.

"Dean? What's the matter, can't keep up with your little brother any more?" She was freed, and stood up with Sam's help. "Shit!" She was suddenly engulfed in an unexpected bear hug. As she took a breath, she also took in Dean's scent. He said nothing; he just squeezed her.

"Dean, it's okay, I'm fine." She said. He reluctantly let her go.

"What the hell, Carmen Eliza?" He scolded as he pushed her shoulder.

"Whoa, what are you middle-naming me for?"

"You scared the shit outta me. NEVER do that again. I told you-"

"Now you sound like John," she said, rolling her blind eyes. "Dean, I'm fine!"

"Really?" He said as he grabbed her chin and tilted her face up to his. She could feel his eyes examining hers. She smacked his hand away.

"Just go get Mel out of her cuffs." She ordered.

"Who?" Dean asked.

"Over here," Mel called. "You guys are doing a pretty horrible job of rescuing me." That made Carmen smirk.

As Dean bent over Mel, Carmen reached for Sam's hand. "You okay?" He asked. She nodded. She placed a cold hand up to his face. Her fingers traced the rise and fall of his cheekbone, his deep-set eyes, the bridge of his nose, and the curve of his lips.

"I better be able to see this face again." She whispered.

Dean successfully picked the locks, liberating Mel Matthews. He helped her up from the ground.

"Whoa," she exclaimed. "Carmen, I like this one; he feels hunky." They all laughed.

"So how do we kill this thing?" Carmen asked.

"It's susceptible to electricity," Dean answered. "We brought stun guns. We kill it by cutting out its eyes and burning them."

"Oh, God." Mel said in a nauseated tone.

"The bastard deserves it," Sam said darkly. He hadn't let go of Carmen's hand once, and she could feel his protective stance over her.

"Will killing it get us our sight back?" Mel asked tentatively.

Dean hesitated. "I don't know."

"Wait," Carmen said. "I hear it. It's coming." Everyone was frozen for a heartbeat, but then she heard Sam and Dean spring into action.

"Don't move," Sam said to Carmen as he pushed her into a corner with Mel. Carmen stepped in front of her, shielding her from any possible attacks. She heard, for the third time, the large heavy door grind against the concrete, the grimlock entering through it. Sam and Dean tackled it to the ground and stunned it.

"Carmen, can you hear his heart beat?" Sam asked. She listened intently.

"Slow, and faint, but still beating."

"Perfect," said Dean.

Carmen took Mel outside and closed the heavy door so she wouldn't have to listen to the Winchesters mutilate the demon. Sam followed them soon after.

"Ready?" Sam asked. Carmen and Mel both shook their heads. They heard Dean flip open his lighter and set fire to the grimlock's eyes.

Slowly, the sewer began to materialize in front of Carmen. At first there were only blurred shapes, then colors, then details. When the grimlock's eyes turned to nothing but ash, Carmen had her full sight back again. Her and Mel looked at each other.

"Whoa, you're pretty!" Mel exclaimed.

"You are too. Funny, I pictured you as a blond."

"Ew, no way." She wrinkled her nose. "Cool scar," She commented. Carmen fingered the scar she hated so much, but smiled at Mel despite her discomfort. Dean came through the doorway, looking back at the embers.

Mel's jaw dropped. "Damn. I was right, he is hunky."

* * *

Sam, Dean and Carmen drove Mel safely back to her aunt's house, where her mother was beside herself with joy. She was introduced to the trio before they headed back to their motel room. Mel's mother was so grateful that she offered rooms for them all to stay in, but they declined. They got back to the motel at half past 1a.m.

Carmen was shot. She was like a zombie as Dean unlocked the motel door and Sam guided her inside. She fell onto one of the beds, and drifted between sleep and consciousness. Sam was exhausted as well, but took off Carmen's shoes and socks and put her to bed before changing into his own sleepwear. Dean turned off the light, and Sam slid into bed next to Carmen, gathering her up in his arms. It felt so good to have her here after fearing the worst that night.

He kissed the top of her head, and drifted off into a rare deep sleep.

* * *

The next day, Carmen came back into the motel room from working out to find Dean and Sam's bellowing voices filling the room once again.

"Why don't you show him some respect? He knows what he's doing!" Dean yelled in Sam's face.

"Really? I don't know if you remember, Dean, but the hunt he sent us on last night almost got Carmen permanently blinded, and it could have been worse!"

"But it wasn't; he knew we could handle it."

Neither of them looked up when Carmen came in. She stood in the doorway, watching the fight ensue, knowing it was a bad idea to interrupt this time.

"I don't understand why the hell you trust him this much. You have your own mind, Dean, you don't have to blindly follow him-"

"I'm not! He's our father, he raised us, and he knows what's best for us-"

"Obviously not, considering he almost got Carmen killed last night."

"How was that Dad's fault?"

Carmen's phone buzzed obnoxiously from her pocket. She took her eyes off the feuding brothers for a moment and flipped it open.

"Dean," she said without taking her eyes off the phone.

"He knew there was something dangerous here, something that was hunting girls _exactly like Carmen_. He sent us right into it! No warning, no briefing-"

"So what, you want him to baby us forever? He wanted us to kill the grimlock, and save the girls, and we did, we saved Mel!"

"Dean!" Carmen said forcefully. She got his attention. "Look at this."

She handed the phone over to him, and he read the text message. "Who's this from?"

"Unknown number." Dean handed the phone to Sam.

"Coordinates?" He said skeptically. "More coordinates…"

"They've got to be from Dad," Dean said.

"How do you know?" Sam said accusingly.

"Who else would send them?" Carmen asked.

* * *

Dean had won; they were on the road following the coordinates in less than an hour. Sam had been reluctant, but Carmen convinced him that no one else would be sending them coordinates, military style, except John. She also convinced him not to be too heated with Dean. She knew better than anyone that he could be a pain in the ass, but it was coming from the right place. He just wanted to reunite his broken family.

Despite the bothers butting heads back at the motel, Carmen felt uncharacteristically light. She felt that they would have made John proud by saving Mel and countless other potential victims by killing the grimlock. Thinking about John made her a bit nostalgic; she missed his guidance and protection. But her worry for her father figure was not enough to dispel her good mood.

"Dean, you sound good." She complimented as he sang off key to the Metallica song playing on the radio. Sam scoffed from the passenger's seat as he picked at the salad he had gotten from the fast food restaurant they were pulling out of.

"Yeah, yeah, I know, I'll stop."

"No, I was being serious." She started humming along to the song herself, pausing only to pop a french-fry into her mouth.

Dean and Sam exchanged a very confused look.

"I'm sorry, was that a _compliment_? From _Carmen Valente_?" Sam said in disbelief.

She smirked. "Alright, don't have a freakin' aneurism." She took a handful of fries and chucked them playfully at Dean.

"Ay!" He exclaimed as he laughed and attempted to retaliate with a chicken nugget, but was distracted by driving and accidentally hit Sam in the face.

"Dean!" Sam laughed. He threatened him with a ketchup packet.

"It was for Carmen, I'm sorry!" He held up his hands in surrender.

"You're right," he turned the ketchup packet on Carmen. "Want some ketchup for those fries?"

"No!" She laughed as she wrestled with Sam. "No, Sam!" Her smile made Sam temporarily forget his afflictions. It had been such a long time since he had seen that smile, and it awakened something wonderful inside him that had been dormant since they had parted.

"Okay, okay, wait. I just got a voicemail." She announced as her laughter subsided. She flipped open her phone, traces of a smile still lingering over her lips. Sam couldn't take his eyes off her, so he watched her as she put the phone to her ear.

But the smile that was warming his heart suddenly made it turn to ice. Carmen's face dropped and she looked into Sam's eyes with a mixture of terror and pure sadness.

"Dean, pull over. Now."

He did as she told him, pulling the Impala over on the deserted dirt road. Carmen opened the door and climbed out before Dean fully stopped the car. Pacing, she pulled out a cigarette and lit it up. Sam and Dean followed her out of the car and waited.

"Mel Matthews is dead." She blew smoke out of her mouth and it travelled into the wind.

"What?" Sam cried.

"She's dead, she's fucking dead. Last night something came into her room and slit her throat. Dammit!" She threw her pack of cigarettes down into the dirt and kicked them as hard as she could. She ran frustrated fingers through her hair and marched away from the Impala, unaware of where her feet were taking her. She found a huge boulder around the corner and sat, looking out over the horizon.

"I can't believe this," Dean ran a hand over his stressed face.

"I'm going to talk to Carmen." Sam said somberly. "Call Bobby, see if you can find out what did this."

Carmen was looking into the setting sun with no expression on her face when Sam reached her. "It's my fault," she said. "We should have stayed, we should have made sure…"

"Carmen, look at me," her frantic eyes rested on Sam's. "It's not your fault."

"How do you know that, Sam?" She said with a lump in her throat.

"Because…"

"Because what? You're just saying that to make me feel better but you can't-"

"I'm not! I'm not just saying that, alright? I know it's not your fault."

Carmen's expression turned from being full of turmoil to quizzical. "How?"

"Because...because it was my fault. Carmen, there's something I need to tell you."


	3. Confessions

Carmen slowly turned her head to look directly at Sam. Her furious eyes bored into his. "What?" Her voice shook with rage.

"There are things that I've been keeping from you, but I think it's time you knew the truth." Sam said. Carmen just stared from below her lashes. Anger was bubbling up in the pit of her stomach, and it took all of her self-control not to let it escape her. "Mel's death…it was my fault. Carmen, I think…I think it was The Demon that killed her. And I think the thing did it _because_ we saved her.

"Think about it; think about the people The Demon has killed so far. Mom in my nursery, Jess in our dorm, now Mel, the girl we just rescued! I feel like It's following me, like it's taunting me!"

"Sam, please." She rolled her eyes, keeping the tears from spilling out of them. "Stop being so cynical. You're no more to blame for any of these deaths than I am, and if I'm not allowed to wallow in self-annihilation neither are you."

"Carmen, let me finish." Said Sam. She waited then, but he said nothing. A frustrated sigh escaped him as he rose from his seat and ran his hands roughly through his tresses. It was obvious that he was struggling, but Carmen was not in a sympathetic state of mind.

"I think…Carmen, I think there's something wrong with me." He finally said softly as he stared at the ground. Carmen still thought he was being overdramatic, and it made her nostrils flare dangerously, but she held her tongue. "The nightmares I've been having? I think they're more than just nightmares.

"It started the night I left. I remember it perfectly. I had moved into my dorm, and I didn't really know what to do with myself. Without you and Dean…Anyway, before I knew it, I had fallen asleep. The dream I had was so vivid it was scary. I had dreamt of you, drowning yourself in a bottle. You drank way too much at some bar, and probably would have kept going, but Dean found you. You fought him hand and foot, but he finally got you back to the motel. Then I saw you puking your guts up. I woke up, and _I_ felt nauseous."

Goosebumps erupted down Carmen's spine as she stared fearfully at Sam. "I remember that night…well, I don't, really, but I remember Dean telling me about it. How the hell did you…"

"I had a premonition. And they've been happening ever since. But I didn't know that they were visions at the time, how could I? A lot of them were about you, when you were angry or scared or upset…I guess I was tuned into you. They were so intense, like I was experiencing every emotion but on overdrive."

"So you're, what, a psychic? Is that what you're trying to tell me, Sam?" She pushed herself up from her seat on the rock and got so close to him that they would have been nose-to-nose, had Carmen's nose reached up that high.

"I…" he stammered.

"And you've known this whole time and decided to keep it to yourself? Don't you think this is something you should have told me, something that I would have liked to know?" She bellowed angrily.

"I wanted to tell you, but I was afraid-"

"So you lied to me instead?"

"Carmen, I'm telling you the truth now!" Sam exclaimed at her. He sighed, exasperated. "And there's, uh, there's one more thing." Carmen crossed her arms over her chest and furrowed her brow at Sam, waiting. He turned away from her, gazing out at the setting sun. "Weeks before…before…Jessica. I had dreamt about…I saw her…I," Sam sniffed loudly, and Carmen's anger began ebbing away, to be replaced by sympathy. "Carmen, I saw her die, and I didn't do anything to save her. I could have saved her."

She sighed. As much as she wanted to be angry with him still, she couldn't. "Sam, no. You didn't know. You didn't know that something like that was really going to happen. How could you?" Sam nodded, allowing Carmen's soothing words to comfort him. He sat down, cross-legged, leaning against the boulder. Carmen slid down to sit next to him. "This is why you've been so distant lately, isn't it? You felt guilty…responsible."

"Of course I did, but it's more than that." Sam pulled his knees up to his chest and took a deep breath. "Carmen, the night that you and Dean came for my help, my whole world flipped upside down. When I saw you standing in the doorway, every feeling I had ever had for you hit me again, like running into a brick wall at top speed. It was as if Jess didn't even exist, like that whole two years of my life didn't exist. But it was also like seeing you for the first time. You were so grown up, so mature, I almost didn't even recognize you.

"I knew the moment I saw you that I couldn't stay with Jess. I didn't even contemplate being with you; I just knew that I couldn't be with anyone else. I was planning on ending it with Jess when I got back…but I never had the opportunity." Sam stared down guiltily at the ground.

"No," Carmen whispered. Sam looked quizzically over at her. "I can't hear this, I can't…"

"What?"

"Sam, you can't tell me this now, okay? There's too much for me to handle, too much to take in! First you tell me you're psychic, _and_ that you've been watching me for two years anytime that I was vulnerable. Then you tell me that you were about to leave your girlfriend because of me?" She jumped up and put her head between her hands. "How do you expect me to react to that? What, you think, now that Jess is out of the way, we can just act like everything is normal between us, that everything is the same as before you left-"

"No! I was just telling you-"

"Well I don't want to know!" She yelled, and she stormed away, leaving Sam staring after her, dumbfounded and wounded.

* * *

Dean sauntered over to the boulder that Carmen and Sam had disappeared behind. He found Sam looking over at the now dark sky with his arms crossed. Looking at his brother, even from a distance, he could see the distress etched in his features.

"What happened?" He asked. Sam just shook his head and stared at the ground. Dean sighed, letting Sam know he would pry no further. "Where's Carmen?" Sam nodded in the direction Carmen stormed off to. Dean didn't feel like dealing with her crap. It had been a rough night for all of them. "What crawled up her ass this time?"

Sam collapsed into his seat on the boulder and told his brother everything he had just told Carmen, leaving out the parts involving Jess. Dean didn't need to know about that. He spoke in a dry, monotone voice, not having the energy to break it to him lightly after Carmen's rejection.

"A psychic?" Dean sigh. "Alright…alright. Did Dad know?"

"No. I haven't spoken to dad since the night I left."

Dean ran his and over his face. "Sammy, why didn't you tell me about this?"

"I didn't think it was something you would want to hear." Sam hadn't moved from his perch on the boulder.

"Come on, Sam. You gotta know me better than that. Even if I didn't want to hear it, I'd want to know it. Help you through it."

"Yeah, well, that's what I thought Carmen would have said, but…"

Dean slapped a hand on his brother's shoulder. "Don't worry about it. You know how she is. She hears something she doesn't like, and she bolts. She'll come around. So, what do you think all this freaky vision stuff is about?"

Sam shrugged. "You know Dean, I'm not sure, but I think it has something to do with The Demon. I don't know how I know, I just have this feeling he's behind them."

Dean studied his face. "Gotta trust your intuition," he said finally.

"What'd you hear from Bobby?" asked Sam, nodding to the cell phone in Dean's hand.

"He said he doesn't know what killed Mel. Coulda been our Demon, could have been another demon, could have been a person for all we know."

"No, that would have been way too coincidental. Whatever killed her was definitely supernatural."

"I agree. But going back there isn't going to do any good; if it was The Demon, it's long gone by now."

They stared out at the black abyss that was stretched out in front of them. Both Winchesters were silent for a while, breathing deeply the fresh air that surrounded them. Then, without a word, Dean pushed himself up and went to find Carmen.

He found her a little ways away, laying flat on her back on a blanket on the side of the road. Her dark hair fanned out around her head like a crown.

Dean sat next to her and looked up at the same night sky he had just been gazing at with his brother. She barely acknowledged him, except for the fact that Dean could feel her tense up from the discomfort of no longer being completely alone.

"He told me," Dean stated. Carmen continued to stargaze. "He thinks it's The Demon; I think he's right." Still no response. Dean sighed deeply.

"Carmen, you know, you put on this tough façade, like you don't care about anything, but I know you better. Underneath this I-don't-give-a-crap attitude, you're scared. You're scared that something bad is going to happen to him, or that he'll leave again, just like last time, so you run. You think maybe it will hurt less that way. But he's a lot more terrified than you right now, and he needs you. So you better go back there."

He wouldn't have even know that she heard him, except, as he got up to leave, he saw her jaw tighten and her lip quiver.

* * *

A half hour later, the trio silently reconvened at the Impala. Neither Sam nor Carmen asked where they were headed, or anything else for that matter; it was as if they were having a contest of who could hold out speaking the longest. This left Dean to endure a long, lonely car ride.

They finally arrived at their destination; a familiar beat up house with so much twisted up metal and so many beat up cars in the front of it that it could pass for a junkyard.

"Bobby's?" Sam finally questioned.

"Bobby's." Dean confirmed shortly. He was annoyed at the pair of them for carrying on their silence for so long.

Bobby came out in his signature trucker's hat and beat up old vest, shotgun in hand, looking ready for anything. But when his eyes found the black Impala in the darkness, his face cracked into a smile.

"Took ya long enough," Bobby said to Dean as they all got out. "Long ride?"

"Oh, you have no idea."

"Expecting company Bobby?" Sam asked, nodding to the shotgun in his hand.

"Can't be too careful." Bobby growled as they all headed through his rickety front door. "How ya been kid?" He said aside to Carmen as he held the door for her.

"Been okay," she answered with a half smile. "How've you been? Taking care of that bike?"

"That last crash was a big one, didn't know if she'd survive, but looks like I'll be able to get her back up and running."

"Can't wait." Carmen's twisted smile became wicked at the thought.

"Don't get too excited." Dean chimed in. "That thing's staying in the garage where it belongs this time."

"She belongs out on the road," Carmen retorted.

"_It_ belongs in a friggin' junk yard!"

"Will you two stop bickering like children?" Bobby screeched. Sam smirked, and Bobby turned to walk into the small but cozy kitchen. Dean shoved Carmen behind his back, and Carmen, in turn, punched Dean in the shoulder.

"So, Bobby," Dean said after pulling Carmen's ponytail. "What was this job you were telling me about on the phone?"

"Iowa. Been checking out a little town called Shelby. Weird things have been goin' on all over that town. There've been four different families, all unrelated, that have been torn apart for no apparent reason." Bobby brought over newspaper clippings and printouts containing the pictures of four different weeping teenagers. "Middle of the night, no warning, no robbery. And there's always one member of the family left untouched, to awaken one morning and find their entire family slaughtered."

Sam looked outraged. "That's…that's…"

"Too horrible for words." Carmen finished for him. They locked eyes awkwardly for a brief second. "And definitely supernatural."

"You sure?" Dean asked. "Maybe it's a seriously messed up serial killer. Maybe not our kinda thing."

"Police have no suspects, no leads, and they can't figure out how the killer got in and out of the house without breaking in or triggering the alarms that three of the four families were armed with."

"Oh," was all Dean managed.

"Yeah," Bobby responded. "I actually have a bit more research to do before I can send you kids off to investigate. Just got wind before you got here of a fifth family. Wish I had heard 'bout this sooner. Maybe we coulda done something…" And with that, he headed off upstairs.

They stood in silence for a while, staring down at the pictures of the sobbing adolescents. Carmen picked up a newspaper clipping and looked it over. Four families, maybe even a fifth, completely torn apart. It was sickening. She sighed deeply and threw the newspaper down on the table with the others, crossed her arms over her chest, and turned to gaze out the large window.

"Carmen," said Sam, "we can't save everyone." But she didn't want to hear it, especially from him.

* * *

Bobby came down an hour later, after Sam and Dean had stolen a meal from his kitchen, and told them about the newest victims. The only member left alive, he said, was a girl of twenty-three. Bobby showed them a picture of a pretty blond with flowing hair, big brown eyes and a sad expression.

"Crash here for the rest of the night," Bobby ordered. "You can hit the road in the morning. Shouldn't take you too long to get there."

"Thanks Bobby." Carmen said with a rare smile. Bobby's house was as close to a permanent home as any of them had ever had. There were three bedrooms: Bobby's, Deans, and Carmen and Sam's. They had always shared a room and a bed together, for as far back as she could remember. Dean and Sam made their way upstairs to their respective rooms, but Carmen hung back. She didn't want to address the issue of where she would be sleeping tonight just yet.

"Carmen!" Bobby whispered slyly. He gave her a wink and nodded to the garage.

When Bobby opened the door, Carmen's jaw dropped. Not only did her bike look ready to ride again, it looked better than before she crashed it. The sleek metal gleamed even in the dim light of the puny garage lamp. The shimmer called to her as she dragged her hand from one end to the other, admiring.

"Bobby, she looks…wow."

He smiled sheepishly. "Didn't want to say anything of front of Dean; I know he has a stick up his ass about this bike, but she's ready to ride. Took the liberty of polishing her up for ya. You can take her tomorrow, if you can get her past Dean, and with her stealthy purr, it shouldn't be too hard."

"He's just jealous because she makes the Impala look like a grandpa. Thank you so much Bobby," she cooed as she threw her arms around him.

Bobby had already gone to bed by time she was done admiring his handy work. She tore herself away from her new toy and stepped back into the now quiet house. Her eyes felt heavy, but she had no desire to sleep. Instead, she decided to research the fifth family that fell victim to whatever evil thing was tearing all these lives apart. She knew they would have to speak to the girl that had survived, but she was not looking forward to it. This case hit too close to home with all three of them. A job where families were being destroyed was always uncomfortable.

But Carmen was distracted from her quest for research when she passed Sam's room and saw a faint light emitting from it. She stood for a moment debating whether or not she should knock…

* * *

Sam closed his laptop with a sigh and glanced over at the clock next to the bed. It was already 2a.m. Even though he was exhausted, he couldn't stand to let his eyes close. He needed to clear his mind; he needed some fresh air. He stood up from his bed and opened the door, only to encounter a pair of big, light brown eyes that looked just as shocked to see him as he was to see them.

"Carmen? What are you still doing up?"

She shrugged. "Sam, can we talk?"

He looked guarded, but nonchalantly said, "Sure. I was just gonna go for a walk."

Carmen nodded and they headed down Bobby's beat up old staircase and outside. It was dark but for the few lanterns Bobby had burning around the yard. The moon and stars were hidden behind bushels of dark clouds overhead. Sam thought he felt a faint drizzle as they circled the boarder of Bobby's dwelling.

Carmen didn't say anything as they made their first round, but Sam was not going to speak first. He waited, and not in vain.

"Sam, earlier tonight," she started. "I didn't mean to make you feel…you know I would never…I was just angry about…" She sighed. "You know?"

Sam rolled his eyes. "Why don't you finish some of your sentences, then maybe I'll know."

She sucked in a deep breath. "I'm sorry." She barely mumbled as she crossed her arms and looked at her feet.

"What was that?" Sam asked forcefully.

Carmen stopped walking and stood in front of Sam. "I'm sorry." She said clearly and ingenuously. "And I want you to know…I didn't get angry because of the things you were telling me. I was angry because…I just was, like I always am." Sam looked her in the eyes and nodded in way of forgiveness. "To be honest, I wasn't even shocked."

Sam scoffed. "You weren't shocked? So, you expected me to tell you that I was a freak?"

"You're not a freak, Sam." She said genuinely. "Look, whatever this psychic thing is, whatever it means, wherever it comes from, we'll figure it out." He looked unconvinced as his eyes dropped to the ground and he pouted his lip. "And, whatever's going on with us…we'll figure that out, too."

His green eyes gleamed as he looked at her fondly and nodded. As they took their time walking back to the house, Sam took Carmen's hand and didn't let it go.

"Night, Sam." Carmen said as they reached his room. She dropped his hand.

"Carmen, where are you planning on sleeping tonight?" He asked before she could leave.

"The couch," she replied without hesitation.

Sam rolled his eyes once more. "You take the bed, I'll get the couch."

"Yea, that makes a lot of sense, considering half your body would be hanging off that tiny little thing. I'll be fine, Sam."

"You probably aren't planning on getting any sleep anyway." He mumbled as he turned away. Carmen's jaw clenched at this. He knew how to make her temper flare in an instant, even after they had forgiven each other moments before.

"No, you're right, I'm not planning on it." She spat.

"Carmen, I'm sorry, I don't want to fight." Sam sighed. "It's just, this morning, I told you everything. Everything that's been going on with me, everything I've been keeping from you since we all started hunting again. It would be nice if you would…" But he stopped at the look on Carmen's face.

"I have nothing to tell," she said in a low but fierce tone. She turned on her heal and marched down the beat up staircase. She slept for only an hour on the small, lumpy couch that night.


	4. Possession

The next morning, Sam, Dean and Carmen were up before the sun rose. The three of them scarfed down breakfast in Bobby's kitchen, packed up their things, and loaded up the Impala.

"Should we wake Bobby?" Sam asked Dean as they threw their bags into the trunk.

"Nah, he knows we're leaving. We'll call him once we get some more info on whatever it is we're up against. And speaking of the job, man, I don't know about this one. It's not like anything we've ever been up against before. You know, an angry spirit usually follows one person, or haunts one place. A creature wreaks havoc, sure, but it's always for a purpose. These families are all unconnected…I can't see a purpose in any of this."

"Yea, I know, it's like the purpose is just death and destruction. I guess we'll find out more when we get there."

"If we ever get there. Where the hell is Carmen?"

At that moment, Bobby's garage door creaked slowly open and Dean and Sam were greeted with the purr of a motor. It was barely even enough to wake Bobby. Then they were blinded by a single white headlight.

"No friggin' way," Dean snarled. But Carmen was already zooming past them, clad in a sleek, jet-black motorcycle helmet, a skin-tight black leather jacket, and biker boots.

Dean cursed. "Sam! Get in the car." Sam grinned. "NOW!" Dean was pissed, but Sam found the whole encounter hilarious.

They arrived at a motel in Shelby in less than two hours, with Carmen racing her beloved newly fixed up bike and Dean speeding along behind her. He was still furious when he followed her into the parking lot.

"Good ride?" She asked while whipping off her helmet and shaking out her hair.

"Carmen, what the hell are you doing? Do you even remember what happened last time you were on that thing?"

"Dean, unclench. The only reason it crashed before was because something was chasing me. It's perfectly fine now."

"Don't tell me it's fine after I saw you nearly die on it!" Dean cried. The crash that had almost totaled Carmen's bike was also the crash that almost totaled her. She had been chasing a werewolf when the creature suddenly turned around and tried to jump her, causing her to swerve, loose control of the bike, and ride it straight into the side of a cliff. The crash broke practically half of her body. If Dean and Sam hadn't been just behind her in the Impala, she wouldn't have made it out alive…or human.

"Just go check in." She ordered bitterly. She turned to place her helmet on the bike when she saw Sam out of the corner of her eye, leaning against the Impala and staring at her tight motorcycle jacket.

She pushed her hair over her shoulder and shot him a glare, which he didn't see, because his eyes where staring nowhere near her face.

"Excuse me," she spat at him. He jumped as if he had just been pinched. She rolled her eyes, and pushed her bike towards a safe parking space, but smirked when she knew Sam couldn't see.

* * *

When they were all unpacked in their motel room and Carmen had called for an extra bed, they headed off (all three of them riding in the Impala) to speak to the fifth family's only survivor. Her name was Jenna, and she was staying in an apartment a few blocks from her home since the incident.

"Nice building." Carmen commented as they walked up to heavy green front door.

Dean rang the bell for Jenna's apartment. "Who is it?" They heard a girly voice on the intercom ask.

Carmen made a noise in the back of her throat. "She sounds blond." She mumbled.

"Ms. Masters?" Dean said. "We're with the Shelby police department, we'd like to ask you some questions about-"

But before he could finish, Jenna had buzzed them in. Dean raised his eyebrows at Sam and Carmen. "Must be my sultry, persuasive voice. Makes women want to invite me to their place." He winked. Carmen smacked the back of his head.

When they reached Jenna Masters' apartment, she had the door ajar and was waiting for them. "Come in," she said with a sad smile. Carmen was right; she was very blond.

"Ms. Masters, we're sorry to bother you at such difficult time. We just wanted to ask,"

"Ask a few questions about what happened the night my family died." She finished Dean's sentence for him. "Yeah, I know. Everyone's been wanting to know about that. The media, the inspectors, the insurance company…So I don't really care who you are. Ask whatever you want." She sat on the couch by the window and crossed her legs casually, looking straight into Dean's eyes.

Sam and Carmen exchanged glances. This wasn't the usual greeting that came with bombarding someone with questions about dead family members. That was usually a subject that victims would rather avoid.

"Well, uh, we just want to know what happened that night. What you saw, if you saw anything strange…?"

"Strange? I saw my entire families guts spilling out onto the floor, so yeah, that was pretty strange."

"I'm sorry," Dean mumbled. "Maybe, if you could just take me through the events of that night." He fixed her with a sympathetic look, but Carmen thought she saw something more than sympathy there.

Jenna sighed. "I heard a weird noise from my bedroom, like a door being slammed a little too hard. It was late, and I knew my parents and my brother had gone to bed. I went downstairs to check it out, but everything looked fine. I filled up a glass of water,"

"When you went downstairs," Carmen interrupted. "Did you smell anything funny? Maybe like rotten eggs?" If it was a spirit, there would have been a sulfur residue.

Jenna looked confused and annoyed that Carmen had interrupted. "No." She answered shortly. "And I'm pretty sure whatever my mom had rotting in the kitchen has nothing to do with the case." Carmen was about to shoot this girl a nasty retort, but she bit her lip. Jenna had been through a lot.

"Sorry," she said through gritted teeth. "Go on."

"So I was walking up the stairs when I noticed my parents door was left open. They always slept with the door closed, so I went to shut it for them, and saw a pool of my father's blood on the floor. Went to wake my mother, but saw the same thing; a pool of her blood surrounding her. I didn't know what to do, so I ran into my brother's room, only to find him slaughtered as well. There was so much blood, it looked like he could have drowned in it."

"That's horrifying," Dean said sympathetically.

"Yeah, well, you asked." Jenna stared out the window, and Carmen stared at her. She heard Dean ask a few more questions, but she wasn't listening. She had zoned in on Jenna's face. The whole time she was speaking about her recently deceased family, not a tear had touched her eye.

"Freedom?" Carmen heard Dean ask as he picked up a flyer from a coffee table in the corner. "That's a club up on Buffalo Avenue, isn't it?"

"Yeah, I'm meeting a friend there tonight." She got up and crossed the room to stand next to Dean, taking the flyer from his hand. She was a little too close for Carmen's comfort. "Why do you ask?"

Dean shook his head. "No reason," he said. "I think that's all we need, Ms. Masters."

"Jenna. Call me Jenna." She flashed him a smile.

"Jenna. Thank you for your time." And they left.

"That poor girl," Dean said as they reached the Impala. "To wake up and find your whole family like that…"

"I can't even imagine," said Sam with a glance at Carmen. They locked eyes for a quick moment.

Carmen kept her mouth shut, but she knew there was something going on with Jenna Masters. "Dean," she asked when they were on the road. "What was that flyer you picked up?"

"It was for a club called Freedom." He said as he drove back to their motel. "I remember reading that one of men that got killed, a father, owned that club. Maybe there's some connection; we should check it out tonight."

"I agree. But first I want to speak with some of the other victims. See what they're like and how they're coping."

"Since when are you concerned with how the victims are _coping_?" Dean inquired. "That doesn't sound like you."

"Trust me, I'm not concerned. But it's important." She wanted to know if the other survivors spoke about their deceased families with the same callousness that Jenna had. Dean sped towards the motel.

"Jenna seemed to be coping pretty well." He observed.

"Yeah, not many vics will flirt with an investigator quite as much as Jenna did."

"What?" Dean said, outraged. "She wasn't flirting with Sam at all!"

"I meant you, jackass." Carmen rolled her eyes.

"Oh," he said. "Well, that's just cause I'm so irresistible."

"Really laying on thick today, huh Dean." Carmen accused.

"I'm just-"

But she didn't want to hear it. As they pulled into the motel parking lot, she cut him off. "Look, I'm going to go speak to Kyle. His family was the first to be attacked. Sam, pick a vic, and go talk to them. Dean, you can go flirt with little miss coping some more, or you can help us out. I don't really care. Just meet back here by nightfall so we can get to that club."

She jumped out of the Impala and hopped on her bike, leaving Dean dumbfounded behind her. "Jeez, what bit her in the ass?"

* * *

Carmen returned to the motel hours later after she spoke to two of the survivors. Seeing them recount their experiences had been painful for her; they, unlike Jenna, had been taking the incident very hard. She felt drained, and going out to a nightclub was the last thing she wanted to do. She at least hoped Dean was over his douche-streak for the day.

She reached for her motel key as she approached the room, but Sam heard her on the other side of the door and let her in.

"Thanks," she mumbled as she stumbled through the threshold. "Where's Dean?"

"He went to see a vic. He chose one of the male ones. I think he felt a little guilty about this morning, even if he didn't know it."

"Mmmm," was all she managed. She sat down on the bed and stared at the small T.V., which was showing an old movie in black and white. "Get anything out of your vic?" She asked.

"Yeah, actually, I spoke to a girl named Lily. Told me she blacked out the night her family was murdered. Said she woke up the next morning at her friends house, and she didn't even remember finding her parents and siblings dead, or calling the police."

"What? Sam, that can't be…Kyle and the other vic, Alyssa, they said the exact same thing. Woke up the next morning not remembering the incident."

"I wonder if Dean's hearing the same thing right now from Robert."

Carmen got up to check John's journal, but upon rising, she swayed on the spot, her head spinning from exhaustion. She had gotten less than five hours of sleep in the past two nights.

"Carmen, are you alright?" Sam asked, concern lacing his voice. He got up and put a sturdy hand on the small of her back.

"Yeah," she said, shaking her head, "just a little tired." Sam nodded, and took his hand away, but he stayed hovering over her. She took another step and fell into his chest.

"Whoa," he caught her around her waist and helped her get her balance. He didn't take his hands off her waist this time.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled faintly.

"Carmen, look at me." She raised her eyes to his. He examined her. "You should take a nap or something before-"

"I'm not going to sleep, Sam," said Carmen in a warning tone.

"I really think you should try and get some sleep. It's going to be a long night."

"I can't!" She exclaimed a bit to forcefully.

Sam held on to her while he looked into her distressed eyes. His strong hands wrapped almost all the way around her thin middle. "Why not?" He asked softly.

For a moment, she just stared back at him, watching his eyes trace the scar on her cheek. Then she pushed his hands away and sat back down, and he knew he wasn't going to get an answer from her. She didn't want to make him angry, so she said, "so, this Jenna girl. I think there's something off about her."

"What do you mean?"

"Just, I don't know, there are so many things that throw me off. Like, did you hear her speaking about her family? Her _dead_ family? It was as if she didn't even care that they were dead. Like she was being…I don't know, defensive about it or something. And since when does a vic want to go out to a bar?"

"I don't know. Maybe she just wants to forget, you know?"

"Mmm," she said again. Just then, Sam's phoned buzzed. He flipped it open and greeted whomever was on the other line, but Carmen wasn't listening. She stared once more at the black and white T.V. screen, pondering. Something about this girl just didn't add up. Something about all the cases didn't add up. All the other survivors they spoke to had blacked out the whole night their families were killed, yet Jenna remembered that night perfectly…

"Carmen? Carmen," Sam waved his hand in front of her face. She didn't respond. He shut off the bad TV and tried again.

"What?" Carmen's eyes finally focused on Sam. He looked concerned for a moment, but then he realized that daydreaming was normal Carmen behavior.

"You amazing, you know that? I don't get how you just zone out like that. It's like you leave this world altogether sometimes."

"I don't mean to," she said a bit defensively. "Sometimes I just need time to think…without you two chuckleheads disturbing the process."

"I didn't mean it as a bad thing. I'm envious. I wish I could zone out for a while sometimes. Get out of my own head." He sighed and sat down on the bed next to Carmen, his hands folded in his lap. Carmen studied him.

"Nightmares." Carmen whispered after a moment.

"Huh?"

"Nightmares. The reason I don't sleep. I always have terrible nightmares."

Sam's jaw hung open a bit as he scrutinized her. The look on her face made him wary; it looked as if just the mention of these nightmares terrified her. He didn't want to make her upset, but he couldn't help but ask her, "What are they about?" He turned his body towards her.

She shrugged. "Sometimes the job. Sometimes it's just images, disturbing ones, that are so clear and vivid…Sometimes it's horrible things happening to you or Dean. But not usually."

"What is it usually?"

She bit her lip and shook her head.

"Carmen. You can tell me."

She sighed shortly. "No, I can't. You won't understand, Sam."

"Why can't you trust me?"

"It's not about trust!" She stood up from the edge of the bed and was steady this time. "Look, I told you why I don't sleep. I told you, so just let it go, alright?"

"No, I can't just let it go. These nightmares, they're not like…like my kind of nightmares, right?"

"No, I'm not a freakin' psychic. They're mostly…memories. Memories that I wish I could forget, but I'll never be rid of." She turned her back to him so she could hide the pain she knew was evident on her face.

"They're memories from before, aren't they?" Sam studied her, but she wouldn't turn around to face him. They both knew that "before" meant before John had rescued her, before she had come to live with the Winchesters.

Carmen was frozen. Just the mention of her past sent shivers down her back. It was a time she never thought about if she could help it.

"Sam, I wish my life started the night John rescued me. I wish the first night I could remember was the first night I slept next to you. But there's so much more before that I just can't escape from."

"Maybe if you tell me about it-"

"Don't do that Sam." She whipped around to face him. "I know you're trying to help me, but that 'share your feelings' crap doesn't help. What will help is if we never talk about this again."

Sam opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, Dean came through the door. It was obvious that he could sense the tension, because he said awkwardly, "Am I interrupting something?"

Carmen said, "No!" at the same time that Sam exclaimed, "Yes!"

She sighed. "What'd you find out from Robert?"

"Same thing you and Sam found. He blacked out during the entire thing." Dean still looked suspicious, as if he didn't quite believe that Sam and Carmen were over whatever he had interrupted. "I guess we're really lucky that Jenna remembers, at least that way we have something to go off of."

Carmen was about to tell Dean how stupid he was being in regards to this girl, but she bit her tongue. She wasn't going to convince Dean that something was weird about her, so why fight about it? She would just have to prove it herself.

"I think we need to meet her at that night club. See a little more of what she's about," she suggested

"Agreed." Dean said.

"Let's go then," Carmen made for the door, but Dean put a hand on her shoulder to stop her. She looked at him quizzically, a bit annoyed.

"It's a night club." Dean stated.

"Yeah…"

"You can't go to a night club dressed like that. You'll stick out like an angel in hell."

"Dean, I look fine!"

"Exactly. You need to look like you're a bad girl with Daddy issues who needs all the wrong kinds of attention." He reached into his duffel and threw a very tiny lump of clothes into Carmen's hands, then some into Sam's. Carmen had been too upset to notice what Dean was wearing when he came through the door, but now she certainly did. He was wearing dark jeans, a black button down shirt with sunglasses hanging off the front, and he'd gelled his hair.

Carmen thought he looked ridiculous.

Just like she was going to look in the skimpy outfit Dean had just thrown her.

"Change, I'll meet you in the car in 10. Oh, and Carmen? I got these for you, too." And he threw her a pair of six inch high stilettoes that looked like they belonged on a street corner.

* * *

Twenty minuets later, Carmen stepped out of the motel room into the cool night sporting a bright green, sparkling belly shirt and black shorts that were about a foot too short. She stumbled a bit on the stilettoes before Dean could catch her and help her steady herself.

"I got it," she mumbled as she pushed away from him. "You're not allowed to touch me while I have this much skin showing," she reprimanded.

"Please, I've seen you in less." Dean scoffed. Carmen shot him a death look, which she stifled as Sam came out of the motel. He was fixing his uncooperative hair as he locked their motel door when he saw Carmen and froze on the spot. He stared open-mouthed at her for a split second, then-

"HAHAHAHAHA!" Sam laughed as he took in Carmen's appearance. "You…look…hilarious!" He said between his laughter. She stumbled over on her heels and started punching any part of him that she could reach.

"Shut the HELL up, Sam!" She screeched.

"Alright, that's enough," Dean said as he picked Carmen up by the waist and practically threw her into the backseat of the Impala.

"I hate both of you!" She screeched as they got in the car and drove off to the nightclub.

Carmen felt ridiculous as she stepped out the Impala, but a little less so when they went into the bar. Every girl their was dressed just as slutty as she was, or more so. It was sickening.

"Let's just find Jenna and get out of here," she said over the pounding music.

"Way ahead of you," said Dean as he made his way through the crowd. Jenna was sitting at the bar by herself with a shot glass in hand. Carmen and Sam hung back to observe.

"Hey, Jenna!" Dean said with a smile when he reached her.

"Hey…Dean, right?"

"Yeah, that's right. I thought you said you were meeting a friend?"

"He decided not to show," she said with a sad glance over her shoulder.

"I'm sorry," Dean said softly.

"What?" Jenna asked. She couldn't hear him over the music.

"I said I'm sorry. Hey, maybe we can go outside, you know, to talk." Jenna looked up at him and shook her head in acquiescence.

On the far side of the club, Carmen's jaw dropped to the floor. "He's leaving with her already?"

"He really is good," Sam said, half impressed, half judgmental.

"He makes me sick." Carmen said with a scowl.

* * *

Dean and Jenna sat on the curb outside of the club. Their knees were up to their chests and Jenna was leaning conspicuously towards Dean.

"So, what happened to your friend?" Dean asked when they got outside.

Jenna shrugged. "He wasn't really a friend. I had just met him. But he heard I was the freak who's family just got murdered so…must have scared him off. I guess he thought I was going to be a weepy mess or something."

Dean nodded. "You seem to be coping really well, though. If you don't mind me asking…how is that?"

Another shrug. "Shit happens, you know? But life goes on. I miss my family, of course, but we weren't exactly the closest. Not that I would ever want anything like this to happen to them, I just…I'm not the type of person to let this stop me from living my life."

"Wow that's way too healthy for me." He smiled at her.

"What about you? What's your family like?"

"Actually, you met most of them the other day. The big goofy one was my brother Sam, and the little annoying one was Carmen."

"Carmen, is she your sister?"

Dean chuckled. "No, not exactly. She's…it's complicated."

"I can see that. Dean, after everything that's happened lately, I…" she sighed dramatically.

"What?" Dean prompted.

"It's nothing."

"Come on, you can tell me."

"I just…I find it hard to be alone, you know, at night. I get scared. Would it be okay if I…?"

* * *

"Hey baby, can I buy you a drink?"

"That won't be necessary," Sam spat at the muscular man hitting on Carmen. He steered her away from the dance floor where they had a good view of Dean and Jenna on the curb and over to the bar.

"This place is pretty loud, wanna get outta here where we can get to know each other?" Another man at the bar said drunkenly to Carmen.

"She's not going anywhere." Sam was getting more and more frustrated by the second. "Carmen, how the hell am I supposed to keep an eye on Dean and Jenna if all I'm doing is keeping you away from the wolves?"

"I blame Dean. If he hadn't made me put on this stupid outfit we would be able to…" She trailed off. "Sam, where'd they go?"

Sam's eyes snapped up to the place where Dean and Jenna were sitting out on the curb, but they were no longer there. Sam and Carmen immediately got up and went outside, Carmen making sure the knife that was tied to her thigh was still in place. She scanned the street, but Dean was nowhere to be found.

"The Impala's gone," Carmen said. "He wouldn't have just left us here!" She whipped out her cell phone, her heart pounding frantically against her chest. "He didn't leave a message," she mumbled breathlessly as Sam called out his name into the crowded street. She hit Dean's speed dial number and waited. It seemed like every ring lasted for eternity.

She closed her eyes and whispered, "Come ON, Dean!"

"Yeah?" Dean's deep voice finally answered.

"Dean, where the hell are you, are you okay?" She screeched.

"I'm fine, I'm at the motel." He replied. "Bring it down an octave, Carmen."

Carmen laughed breathlessly in relief. Normally she would be furious, but she was too relieved that he was alright. "Sam, he's okay!" She yelled to a still frantic Sam. "Dean, you scared the crap out of me, why the hell did you leave?"

"Jenna wasn't feeling well, so I brought her back here."

Carmen froze. Pure fury erupted in her stomach at this. Her face grew hot, and she narrowed her eyes at Sam, not really seeing him. She only saw red. Her voice shook as she spoke. "What?" She said darkly into the receiver. She could barely speak intelligibly. "You left us here, freaking _stranded_, to take _her _back to _our_ motel room?"

"Carmen, relax, I can come pick you up now."

"Don't bother." And she snapped her phone shut. Without looking at Sam, she hailed a cab.

* * *

Carmen burst though the motel room door, Sam on her heels, and Dean knew he had pushed her too far this time. She threw down her bag and stepped so close to Dean that she was nose to nose with him.

"Do you have any idea how terrified I was? How could you just leave like that, without even telling us, when you know-"

"I left a freaking message on Sam's phone!" He bellowed over her. "So don't tell me I left without telling you!"

"It was my fault," Jenna interjected. "I didn't feel well, don't blame Dean-"

"Shut up!" Carmen yelled as she whipped around to face her. She pointed a finger at her accusingly. "This is none of you business, so you should just leave!"

"Carmen!" Dean bellowed.

"Dean, it's okay," Jenna said softly.

"Don't you _dare_ speak to him like you own him, you've known him for two days-!"

"I was just trying to-"

"Well don't, because it doesn't matter what you say, I haven't believed a word that's come out of your mouth once yet!"

"Carmen, outside!" Dean ordered over all the commotion. Carmen crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him. When she made no move, Dean pushed her out the door into the cool night. She locked her jaw and stared at him heatedly.

"What is your problem?" He scolded. She said nothing, just shot daggers at him with those big brown eyes. "She just lost her whole family; she's a victim, you can't treat her like that!"

"She's not a victim, why can't you see that? She should be a suspect Dean! Do you think it's a coincidence that she's the only one who remembers that night, who remembers what happened? I don't trust her, Dean, and neither should you!"

"Well I do! You don't know her, you've barely even spoken to her!"

"I know enough."

They stared each other down, neither one willing to break.

"Carmen, you know what?" Dean exclaimed. "You can either fix your attitude problem, or you can leave!"

Carmen's jaw dropped. Leave? Had he just told her to leave? Never, in all the years they had been together, since she was eleven years old, has he ever told her to leave. They've had worse fights than this, even, but they always settled it somehow. Even in those two years without Sam to mediate, they had always worked it out. But now…

She covered the pain on her face by marching back into the motel room, grabbing her duffel bag and her helmet without looking at Sam or Jenna, getting on her bike, and speeding off.

* * *

Dean watched Carmen until her bike rounded the corner. As soon as he had let those words slip out of his mouth, he wished he could take them back. He didn't regret their fight; he still stood by Jenna, and Carmen was acting like a bitch, but he didn't really want her to leave. Sam was going to be pissed.

He slowly made his way back into the motel room, not wanting to face his brother. He walked in nonchalantly, sat down at the shabby table in the corner, and started flipping through pages of John's journal, not really comprehending what he was seeing.

"Dean," Sam said darkly. "Where is she?" Dean looked up, and his brother was looking askance at him. He shook his head and cleared his throat.

"She, uh…she left."

"She left?" Sam said incredulously.

"Yeah, she got on her bike and booked it." He couldn't hold his brother's gaze.

"What did you say to her, Dean?" He asked accusingly. Dean said nothing, but stopped flipping through the various pages. Sam sighed in frustration. "You know, Dean, I haven't said a word through this whole debate. I was trying to let you two work it out, but…I didn't think you'd go this far." Sam grabbed the keys to the Impala and went after Carmen.

Dean sighed deeply as his brother slammed the door behind him. He put his face in his hands and pushed his palms to his eyes so all he saw was black.

"Dean, I'm really sorry." Jenna whispered hesitantly. "I didn't mean to cause a riff between you and your family…"

"It's not your fault. Carmen's just really hot-headed. Always has been. She'll come around."

"If you don't mind me asking…what's her story? You said before that you travel around the country, going from place to place…how did she end up with you and your brother?"

"It's kind of a long story…and to tell you the truth, I only know part of it. Carmen is the toughest person I know."

"She's kind of intimidating," Jenna commented softly.

Dean chuckled. "Yeah, she can be downright scary sometimes. Scares the crap out of me…" He glanced over at the door, as if he expected her to come through it at any moment. "Sam's the only one who knows exactly how to handle her."

"What's the deal with them? Are they dating?"

Dean laughed and shook his head. "I don't know if I would call it 'dating'. They…it's complicated, although it's really the simplest thing in the world. I guess you could say they're 'in love', but I wouldn't really call it that either. They're just…connected. Like they know that no matter what happens, they'll always come back to each other. It doesn't matter where they are in the world, they'll always be…I don't know, together. It's been that way since the day they met. He always knows exactly what she's thinking, and she needs him, but he needs her, too. It's deeper than anything… There was two years when Sam went off to college. He met this girl there and was 'dating' her. But he was still with Carmen. He didn't see her, he didn't speak to her, he wasn't physically with her, but they just have this…supernatural bond somehow. I don't really believe in all that 'soul mates' crap, but if I did…"

"It looks to me like you know how Sam feels about her. Do I detect, maybe, a hint of envy?"

Dean scoffed. "No, definitely not. Carmen's like my little sister. It's not like that with us."

"So, those two years when Sam was away. It was just you and her, right? You guys never…"

Dean cleared his throat and quickly changed the subject.

* * *

Carmen's foot tapped as The Band blared from her headphones. She was sitting at the local library computer, researching as much as she could. It was her natural fallback; John had taught her well. It was late, and the library was dark, deserted, and most definitely closed, but Carmen had found her way in anyway, hoping that no one would find her there. The heels that Dean had bought her were hung on the back of her chair, and Sam's sweatshirt, which he had left in her duffel bag, covered her skimpy belly shirt. She was quietly humming to herself when someone tapped her on the shoulder.

"Shit!" She exclaimed as she jumped a foot in the air and ripped her headphones form her ears. She whipped around to see Sam's gigantic frame looking down at her. "What the hell are you trying to do, give me and aneurism? Your brother tried pretty hard before; one of you might actually succeed one of these days." She turned, exasperated, back to the computer screen, which was the only source of light in the room. It gave Carmen's face an eerie glow.

Sam sighed. It was obvious that she was upset; he knew that she was pushing him away because she didn't know how else to handle being this distressed. "Carmen, I just came to make sure you're alright." She didn't look away from the computer. "I'm sorry about Dean. He didn't mean whatever stupid thing he said to you this time-"

"He told me to leave, Sam. He's never said that to me that before. We've had our fights, sure, more intensely than you know, more than you and John even…but never once did he tell me to leave." She was too agitated to even see what was on the screen in front of her, but she didn't want to look at Sam, so she turned back to her research.

Sam shook his head, angry with his brother for being so reckless. "He didn't mean it, and you know that."

"It doesn't matter! Don't you see what's going on? That Jenna girl is manipulating him! She hasn't been around him three days and already she's getting him to turn against his own family, to go against everything that he knows! She blinding him, Sam, and I don't know how to stop it!" She put her head in her hands. "I feel like I'm loosing him and I don't know how to stop it."

"So then we need proof. We need to figure out who or what she is and we need to show Dean hard proof, something he can't deny."

"We?" Carmen looked at him hopefully. "You agree with me?"

"Of course I do."

She laughed in relief. Then, she actually got up and put her arms around him. Sam was shocked, but hugged her back. "Carmen, what's the matter?"

"Nothing, I just thought I was alone in this." She pulled away and smacked him on the arm. "Why didn't you say this sooner?"

"I thought you knew!" He said as he flinched away from her.

"You could have helped me when Dean and I were arguing," she said accusingly.

"It didn't seem like you needed help." Sam chuckled, and despite herself, Carmen grinned.

"I'm just happy to have someone on my side," she said.

"But that still leaves us with a problem." Sam sighed. "How do we convince Dean?"

"Actually, I think I found something." Carmen sat back down in front of the computer, and Sam pulled a chair next to her. "I was researching demonic possessions. Obviously we know about _The_ Demon, but what about the rest of them? Where do they come from, what do they want, why are they here? Well I found out that demons come from hell, but they need to manifest in a human body to be able to do anything substantial, besides, like, float around through the air. I think maybe Jenna is a demon, or at least being possessed by one. Look," Carmen scrolled down the page on the computer and highlighted a passage that Sam read aloud.

"See? People who have been possessed say they don't remember large chucks of time, like they blacked out. That's why the other victims don't remember the night their families were killed, because this demon, the same one that's now inside Jenna, was possessing them!"

"So, you think that the victims were the ones who killed their own families? That's..." Sam trailed off with an outraged look on his face.

"Well, they physically killed them, yes, but they didn't know what they were doing. And for some reason, the demon stayed inside Jenna, and that's why she can remember everything. It's still possessing her! Sam, I think there's an innocent girl trapped inside her own body…"

"Are there any other indications of demonic possession?" Sam asked.

Carmen nodded. "They have black eyes, they flinch at the name of God, and holy water will burn them."

"So why is this demon still possessing Jenna? Why hasn't it moved on to the next family yet?"

Carmen bit her lip. She had a theory, but she was afraid to tell Sam. "I don't know. I do know that we don't have enough proof yet to convince Dean of anything."

"It seems like she's trying to get him to like her, trying to cause a us to turn against each other."

"Well, it's working." Carmen said dejectedly.

"We just have to find proof," Sam said as he stared out the big glass windows.

"How are we going to do that, exactly?" Carmen asked cynically.

"We follow her until we see something."

Carmen nodded. She sighed and reached for her keys, but Sam swiped them first. She raised an inquisitive eyebrow at him.

"I get the bike," he said with a sly grin as he threw Carmen the keys to the Impala.


	5. Rescue

Carmen and Sam sat in the Impala outside of the apartment building where Jenna was living. They had stopped back at the motel after the library, saw that Jenna had gone home, and, without a word to Dean, left for Jenna's apartment.

And now they waited. Carmen sat in the driver's seat, and hadn't taken her eyes off the shaded window for hours. She watched Jenna's shadow pass back and forth, and it was early morning before the lights went out.

"She's going to bed." Carmen sighed. "I guess we'll have to come back tomorrow."

She finally peeled her eyes away from the window and looked over at Sam, only to find him fast asleep. She examined his serene face and smiled to herself at the fact that he seemed to be having peaceful dreams, or maybe even no dreams at all. She gently moved a piece of his floppy hair away from his eyes, and went to start the Impala.

Before she could turn the key, however, a movement from the dark side of the apartment building caught her eye. She looked and saw Jenna slink away in the cover of the shadows. Several times, she looked over her shoulder, glancing at the nothingness that followed her.

"Sam," Carmen whispered. "Sam." She shook him gently and it was enough to wake him. Nodding to the escaping Jenna, she stealthily got out of the Impala, Sam doing the same, and followed her.

"Where the hell is she going?" Sam whispered. After twenty minuets of following Jenna down back roads and sketchy dark alleys, they finally saw her enter a tall, deserted, boarded-up building.

"Only one way to find out," Carmen whispered back as she copied Jenna, moving one of the boards out of the way to slip inside. Sam had a bit more trouble, considering he had to fit his abnormally large frame into a slim entryway, but eventually he was in, too. They were in what seemed like an old abandoned hotel; the ground floor was filled with desks covered in dust and old moldy couches.

There was no stairwell in sight, but an empty elevator shaft to their left was illuminated. They heard, with perfect clarity, Jenna's voice speaking to someone several floors up.

Sam put his fingers to his lips and pointed up the elevator shaft. He gave Carmen a boost so she could reach one of the hanging cables, then grabbed onto one himself. They silently scaled the rope until they reached the top floor where Jenna resided. They hung, out of sight, watching the back of her head. It seemed like she was speaking on a phone, but when she turned around, they saw that she was speaking into a goblet…full of blood.

Carmen immediately took out her phone from her pocket and started recording.

"Yes, it's definitely the Winchesters. The Valente girl, too. They're together, it looks like. I got in close with the older one, and it looks like he's on my side. I know we need the boys, but the girl is negligible. I could easily destroy her. Yes. Yes, father."

Carmen turned to Sam, and his face mirrored her shocked expression. He pointed down, and Carmen slid down her cable as Sam slid down his. They took off to get back to the Impala, and ultimately back to Dean.

* * *

As Sam related that night's events to Dean back at the motel, Carmen leaned inconspicuously against the wall, unmoving. Her eyes were examining the carpet.

"I'm sorry, man." Sam said as he finished telling Dean what they saw. "I know this isn't what you wanted to hear." They didn't even need to show him the video they took. He didn't question them. Nobody said a word for a moment. Dean's eyes were locked firmly on Carmen throughout Sam's retelling, and he watched her now, gauging her reaction. Only when Sam was finished speaking did her eyes finally raise to find Dean's.

"I'm sorry." He said in a gruff tone.

"I know," she said. "Me too."

"For what?"

"I didn't want to be right." She looked at him sympathetically. "I could tell you liked her. It's just…that's exactly what she wanted."

He nodded and sat down on the edge of the bed. "So, she's after us, huh? What the hell for?"

"We didn't stay long enough to find out." Carmen answered. "But we need to go back. We need to find out who she was contacting, and what they want with us." Carmen could already guess whom she was contacting, but, with a glance at Sam, she held her tongue.

"So let's go." Dean said as he stood up from the bed.

"Now?" Sam asked, incredulous.

"No, Dean." Carmen said with authority. Although she admired his enthusiasm (she always had), it was very late and they all needed rest. "We'll stake her place out tomorrow. We'll see who she contacts, both in the real world and the supernatural, and we'll see what she's like while she's not flirting with unsuspecting hunters."

Dean shot her a glare.

"Ehem, sorry." She mumbled, forgetting that the backhanded comments were now unnecessary. "What I'm saying is, all we know about her now is that she's a demon, and she's after us. It would be unwise to try and attack her without knowing more. We'll go tomorrow night, alright?"

Dean nodded once more, yawned and settled into bed, Carmen and Sam not far behind.

* * *

Carmen lay silently in her bed, her eyes closing against her will time and time again. She was trying so hard not to let herself sleep, but she couldn't stay awake all night. It was so hard not to let herself drift…

_She sits in a dark corner of her room with her knees hugged to her chest. The door is slightly ajar allowing a sliver of light to touch her face and illuminate the tear tracks running down her cheeks. Her head is tilted toward the opening, the better to hear the voices yelling from the other room. She is only seventeen._

_ "Dad, Carmen is a young girl! She's going to get hurt out there; you know how dangerous it is, and you're acting like you don't care!" _

_ "Sam, I care more about that girl than you know! And she's old enough now, she can make her own decisions-"_

_ "Oh, so she can make her own choices but I can't? Or is it that she can make up her own mind because she chose this life? As long as I choose to stay, I can choose for myself? Why can't you just let me live my own life?"_

_ "This _is_ your life, Sam!"_

_ "No, dad, this is YOUR life! You dragged me into this when I couldn't decide for myself, but now I can, and I'm deciding that I want to go to college!"_

_ "College isn't an option!"_

_ "The people at Stanford think it is! They gave me a full ride and you can't just take that away from me!"_

_ "And you can't just leave your family!"_

_ "Watch me."_

_ She hears footsteps heading away from her. _

_ "Sam, if you walk out that door, don't you EVER come back!" She holds her breath, then hears the door open and close with a loud SLAM-_

Before she knew it, she was jolting awake, unaware that she had even fallen asleep. She took a deep, steadying breath, allowing herself to recuperate from the night terror that was also one of her worst memories.

"Still not sleeping?" Sam asked. Carmen's eyes darted to the window seat where he was perched. He didn't look away from the outside, allowing her to regain herself. Dean was on the other side of her, fast asleep.

"I could ask you the same question." She stated as she rose from her bed and went to sit opposite Sam.

"I couldn't sleep even if I'd wanted to." Sam sighed. "I just keep thinking about what we heard tonight. This demon that's possessing Jenna…it knows who we are. This isn't an accident, Carmen. I mean, how did it know we were going to come here? It wanted us specifically, you know, and I can't help but think…"

"It has something to do with The Demon." Carmen finished for him. "I think you're right, Sam. And I think maybe that's who Jenna was contacting earlier."

They stared at each other, mulling over the new theory. "Sam," Carmen whispered. "We should call John."

"Why?" Sam spat bitterly, reacting exactly how Carmen knew he would. "He won't answer. He never does. What would make this time different?"

"We've never been this close to The Demon before. He's spent his whole life hunting this thing, Sam. If something was going to bring him to us, it's this." Sam just looked annoyed, as he always did at any mention of his father. "Why are you so angry with him?" She asked softly. He didn't answer, just continued staring out the window.

* * *

The next day, the trio followed Jenna all day long. They awoke before sunrise to get to Jenna's apartment, but it was unnecessary, as she didn't leave until after noon. They followed her throughout the city, but didn't observe anything odd about her routine, although she called Dean's phone several times to try and get in touch with him.

"No way I'm answering your phone calls now, bitch." He mumbled as he chucked his phone into the backseat.

By nightfall, she was back in her apartment.

"Maybe she knew we were following her." Dean pondered from the passenger's seat.

"No, there's no way; we've hidden flawlessly." Carmen leaned over to get a better look at Jenna's shadow through the curtains. Just then, Dean's stomach gave a loud growl.

Carmen rolled her eyes. "Hungry?" Sam asked as he chuckled.

"Shut up! I haven't eaten since breakfast." Dean mumbled.

"We're not going to find anything here tonight anyway," Sam said. "Why don't you two go back to the motel and I'll call you if I see anything strange."

"Sounds good to me." Dean said as he got out of the Impala to start walking, but Carmen stayed put. She turned her large eyes on Sam, glaring.

"What?" Sam asked.

"Are you serious? Considering our theory as to what kind of demon this girl is working with, I don't think you being here alone is a good idea." Her nostrils flared as she spoke to him.

"Come on, Carmen. I'll be fine. You said it yourself; she has no idea we're following her. I'll call you if anything weird happens. Go."

She continued to glare at him, but after thinking it over for a moment, she got out of the car. She walked to the passenger side door, opened it, and, staring directly at Sam, pulled out her pistol from inside her leather jacket. She pulled out the magazine, dropped her eyes to make sure that it was full, and threw it on the passenger's seat next to Sam. Sam glanced down at the gun, and before he could look back up to Carmen, she had already closed the door and was catching up with Dean.

* * *

"Carmen? Carmen! God, I hate it when you do that. Have you listened to anything I've been saying for the past ten minutes?" Dean asked as they walked.

Carmen glanced over at Dean, unaware that she had even been spacing out. "No, but I'm sure I missed out on a riveting discussion." She said sarcastically. She looked around and realized they were already back in the motel room.

"You want to go to the diner or just get some fast food?"

"Like I said, riveting."

"Alright, you know what? I'm going to go get us some food, you stay here and work on that attitude problem." Dean grabbed his jacket and slammed the door on the way out. Although Carmen knew she should feel guilty, she was grateful for the time alone to think. She lay down on Sam's bed, staring at the ceiling but not really seeing it. Her mind was still back in the Impala with Sam. It was also wandering up to the window with Jenna. She needed to know if this girl really was working with The Demon, and what that son of a bitch's plan was with Sam. Why Sam? Why not her or Dean? And why, even though Carmen was just as avid a hunter as the Winchesters, was she "negligible"?

Not having these answer's made her itch, and she was getting tired of discovering more questions without getting any answers. The prospect of revenge also made her itch. This bitch, whether it was working with The Demon or not, had destroyed way too many lives, and Carmen wanted vengeance. The gruesome images of what those families experienced, and what the surviving teens were still experiencing, had hit her so deeply that it had penetrated her nightmares.

Before she knew it, Dean had returned with fast food. It smelled greasy, but to Carmen and Dean, it was as good as any food they ever ate. The closest thing to a home cooked meal they had was grilling burgers at Bobby's.

Dean put the boxes of grease down on the shabby motel table. "Earth to Carmen. You with me?"

She sighed. "Yeah, I'm with you." She pushed herself grudgingly up from the bed and sat with Dean at the table.

"Good, cuz this philly cheese steak is more grease than even I can handle. You're gonna have to help me out with this one."

"I got your back." Carmen's mouth pulled up into her half smile.

"So, I've been wondering," Dean said through a mouthful of food. "What's this demon's problem with us? Why is it after us specifically? There are plenty of hunters out there who kill more evil than we do."

"Actually, Sam and I have a theory." And she told him about what they had been discussing.

"We should call Dad," Dean said without hesitation.

"I said the same thing, but Sam thinks he won't answer."

"The hell he won't! Dad's been after this thing for forever!"

"I know, Dean." She said patiently.

"I'm calling him." Dean took out his phone. Unsurprisingly, John didn't answer. Dean left a message, giving John information on their situation and whereabouts. Just as he flipped the phone shut, it buzzed in his hand. "Hello?" He said into the receiver. "She's moving? The abandoned hotel…be right there." And Dean snapped his phone shut again.

Carmen was already up with her leather jacket on. She bent over her duffel and started chucking things onto the bed to be put into her backpack. "We're going to need holy water, and salt to trap her." Carmen packed her backpack, and looked up at Dean. She narrowed her eyes at him. "You're planning on handcuffing her?" She asked, nodding to the silver cuffs dangling from Dean's hands.

"Not exactly," he said. Before Carmen knew it, Dean had attacked her, sweeping her legs from underneath her and forcing her on the bed. She kicked at him as hard as she could, but he overpowered her easily.

"Dean!" Carmen screamed as he handcuffed her right hand to the right side of the headboard. "What the hell are you doing?"

"There's no way you're coming with me."

"What are you TALKING ABOUT?" Carmen screeched. Fury exploded like a volcano in her stomach.

"Oh, this is way too kinky." He laughed, cuffing her other hand to the other side of the headboard. He backed away and looked her over, making sure it was impossible for her to escape.

"Dean, don't you DARE leave me here!" Her eyes were vicious, and her face was red with rage.

"It's too dangerous for you Carmen! Sam told me what the bitch said about you; that you were negligible! That she would have absolutely no restraint killing you just to get you out of the way. I'm not taking any chances after last time. You're staying here."

"DEAN! John would kill you!"

"John would agree with me."

There was nothing she could do but yank on the cuffs like a chained animal as Dean walked out the door.

* * *

And now Dean and Sam were trapped.

They were in the abandoned hotel, on the top floor where Jenna resided. Jenna had Sam tied to one column on one side of the room, Dean to a separate column on the opposite side. Dean watched as she shamelessly tried to seduce Sam. The way she was straddling his lap and nibbling on his ear made Dean nauseous. He averted his eyes as he maneuvered the small knife that he always carried up his sleeve down to his open palm. He was careful to keep a disgusted expression on his face, in case Jenna looked over.

"You know," she cooed into Sam's ear. "I had to flirt with Dean over there to try to get him to trust me. I knew there would be no way of getting you on my side with that girl of yours in the way. But I have to say…out of the two of you, you are definitely more delicious."

"Oh, God." Dean groaned as he made a gagging nose in his throat. Jenna ignored it. Dean had just begun weakening the thick rope that bound him when his hand slipped up and the blade dropped to the floor with a clang.

At the sound, Jenna's head snapped up from Sam's neck to glare menacingly at Dean. He groaned inwardly. She stalked over to him and ripped the blade from the ground next to his hand.

"You think you can get away so easy?" She barked out a crazed laugh. "I don't think so!" She chucked the knife down the elevator shaft and they heard it collide with the metal as it fell. For good measure, she smacked Dean across the face.

Jenna turned fiery eyes back to Sam. She sauntered over to him, took her place on his lap, and continued her flirtatious rape.

"So, you have us here," Dean panted as his cheek burned white hot where she struck him, "can't you just maim, or torture or do whatever it is you're going to do? Anything would be better than being forced to watch a demon molest my brother." Jenna pulled away from Sam. Her face went dark for a moment, but she quickly plastered on a smile.

"Be patient, baby. That part comes later." Her sweet voice sickened him.

Sam stared thoughtfully at her, a smirk building on his face. "No," he said softly. "No, she can't do anything to us. She would have done it by now. She's waiting for orders…Ha," he scoffed, "she's someone's bitch!" The darkness appeared momentarily on her face once more.

This time her attempt to fool them was slightly less convincing. "If anyone's the bitch here, baby, it's you." She straddled him again, and he cringed away. "And you're right," she whispered seductively in his ear, "I can't kill you. Not yet. At least not until Daddy dearest shows up to try and rescue you."

Sam's face fell, and she could tell that her words had the effect she wanted. "It's a trap," he breathed. "It's a trap for dad."

"Oh, don't you catch on quick!" Jenna exclaimed sarcastically. "But until then, baby, it's just you and me." And she kissed him full on the mouth. Dean groaned, but Jenna ignored him.

Sam tore his face away from her hot breath, cringing away once more. He was losing hope as she forced his face forward and kissed him again. There was no way to warn his father, and no way out of the restraints that bound him. Jenna continued making out with his unmoving lips, until:

"He's mine, bitch."

Jenna looked up suddenly as Carmen landed a roundhouse kick straight to her jaw. She staggered backward as Carmen stalked forward. Her fist connected with Jenna's temple, sending her to the floor. Carmen kicked at her again, but this time Jenna dodged it. She got to her feet and attempted a right hook to Carmen's face, but it was blocked. She tried to land a hit to Carmen's stomach, and this time her fist collided. Carmen doubled over, and Jenna kicked her hard in the face.

Jenna laughed as Carmen fell to the floor face down. Fear overtook Sam as Carmen lay unmoving on the ground. "What's the matter, Sammy?" She said as she turned towards him. "Worried about your little girlfriend? Guess she isn't at tough as you thought, huh?"

Sam shook his head. "You're right." He narrowed his eyes at her. "She's tougher."

At that moment, Carmen surprised Jenna by grabbing her around the neck from behind and squeezing as hard as she could. The demon tried to wrestle its way out of her grasp, but Carmen overpowered it. She tried to throw it back on the ground so that she could knock it out somehow, but she couldn't force it down. The demon suddenly escaped from Carmen's grasp and put its hands around her neck. In defense, Carmen hit its arms away and kicked Jenna's body as hard as she could. The demon stumbled back, and fell out of the window with a deafening crash.

Carmen stood frozen for a moment, her mouth hanging open in horror. She ran to the edge of the window and gazed down at the bloody, broken corpse that had been a casualty of the battle.

Carmen knelt down reverently and whispered "I'm sorry, Jenna."

"Carmen!" Dean called. "Get us out of here." She obeyed, getting up and ripping off the rope binding Dean's hands. "Someone must have heard that; we don't want to be here when the cops get here." She nodded as she knelt beside Sam, freeing his hands. "How the hell did you get out of those cuffs?" He asked, perplexed.

"I broke the headboard." Carmen said, grinning sheepishly.

Dean burst into laughter. "That's my girl!" He exclaimed.

"Oh, and here," Carmen held out the small silver blade that Jenna had stolen. "I caught it when she threw it down the elevator shaft." Dean could only stare at her with reverence; he pulled her into a bear hug.

"Hey, no chick-flick moments." She said, but wrapped her arms around his neck anyway.

Sirens in the distance were their cue to leave. They shimmied down the elevator shaft, and got back to the Impala. As they headed back to the motel, they realized they were also heading towards the sirens.

"Looks like we're not going back just yet," Dean said as he turned the car around. He drove until he found a deserted lot a ways away from all the commotion and parked in some dark ally where the Impala was inconspicuous. "Well, that bitch had me tied up for too long. I'm going to go find a bathroom." Dean said as he got out and headed back into the city.

Carmen got out of the Impala and watched Dean go, wondering why he wasn't sticking around. She perched herself on the hood of the car with her legs crossed underneath her and her hands in her lap, and Sam sat on the edge next to her. She realized after a while that he was staring at her, grinning.

His smile looked so big and goofy that she couldn't help the side of her mouth curling up as well. "What? What are you looking at me like that for?"

"'He's mine, bitch'?" Sam quoted with a chuckle.

She let out a laugh as well. "Yeah, you know, you say stupid stuff in the heat of the moment. I just saw her gnawing at your neck, and I guess my protective instincts took over."

"I don't mind being yours, Carmen." His voice was like velvet.

At this, Carmen looked down at her interlaced fingers. She could feel her face falling and her smile fading, but she couldn't help it. Her heart fluttered uncomfortably.

Sam sighed deeply. "Carmen, why do you do that?" She shot him a skeptical look from the corner of her eye. "Every time I say something about you, about us, about the way I feel about you, you make this face like…like you're…"

"Terrified?" Carmen finished for him. Sam nodded, and it was her turn to sigh. "I guess it's because, when you talk about me like that, I feel terrified and…stupid."

"Why? What could I possibly have done to scare you?"

"You left, Sam. That's what you did: you left. Maybe I sound like a broken record but…I can never forget that. I was so broken, so lost…it was like you took part of myself with you when you went away. And I know that your decision to leave had nothing to do with me, but as much as that thought comforted me, it hurt me just as much. You didn't think about how much I needed you. How badly I would miss you."

"Carmen, it hurt me, too. Everyday that I was away from you felt like…like I didn't know who I was."

She was silent for a moment as she took that in. It didn't make her feel much better. "It wasn't just that, Sam. When Dean and I came to recruit you that night from Stanford…I just felt so stupid."

"What would make you feel like that?"

"The whole time you were away, I still felt…" She sighed. "Sam, I can't."

"Carmen, tell me. What are you afraid of?"

"That you'll judge me. That you'll think I'm as stupid as I think I was."

She chanced a glance at him, and his eyes looked so trusting that she heaved a sigh and told him exactly how she felt.

"The whole time you were away, I still felt connected to you. I still felt like you were with me, every single day, and I held on to that thought with everything I had. I was waiting for you to come home, to come back and be with me again…but you had Jessica, and you had a different life, and I was still with Dean and John, living the same life I have been for almost ten years."

"But Carmen, don't you see? This life, this is who we are. This is who I am! I didn't know it at the time but…you always knew who I was. You saw me like no one else did, and that's why you were waiting for me to come back. I didn't belong at Stanford. I didn't belong with Jessica…I belonged with you. And I want to be with you now."

Carmen looked at him, looked deep into his bright green eyes. She saw them burning with passion, and knew he was telling her the truth. He brushed a long brown lock away from her face and put a gentle hand to her cheek. She closed her eyes and unconsciously leaned into his touch. Then she felt soft lips brush her forehead for a long moment that she didn't want to end.

But Dean came back, and Sam pulled away, clearing his throat awkwardly and pushing himself away from the Impala.

"Should be safe to head back." Dean said. They all got into the car and drove back to the motel.

* * *

"So, did I interrupt something back there?" Dean asked as they got out of the car.

"No." Sam and Carmen said in unison. Dean smirked as he took the motel key from his pocket.

"You guys are so obvious. You know one day, you're-"

But he stopped mid sentence. Upon opening the door, he saw a shadowed figure silhouetted against the window. He dropped his duffel bag and whipped out his gun.

"No," Carmen said softly as she put her hand over Dean's and forced him to lower the weapon. She took a timid step forward, and the shadowed figure slowly turned around.

"John?" Carmen whispered in disbelief. John Winchester's hard face cracked into a rare smile. Carmen ran the length of the room and practically jumped into his arms, and he embraced her back, but his eyes were on his boys.

Every bit of air that Dean had in his lungs felt like it had been punched out of him. He crossed the room in two long strides and wrapped his arms around his father and Carmen.

Sam was too stunned to move, so he just gawked at the man standing in his motel room. He did not cross the room like his brother and Carmen had, to embrace his lost father. He wasn't sure how John would react if he did. He sauntered over to stand next to Carmen and Dean.

"Hey Sam." John looked at his son with regret.

"Dad." Sam smiled wearily.

"Dad, it was a trap. I didn't know, I'm sorry." Dean said as he stood with his arm around Carmen's waist.

"I figured it might be," John said "I got there just in time to see the girl take the swan dive. She was the bad guy, right?"

"Yes sir." All three of them chimed.

"I'm not surprised. It's set traps like this before."

"The Demon?" Sam asked.

John nodded. "It knows I'm on its trail, and that I'm close. It knows I'm going to kill it, and not just exorcise it or send it back to hell, actually kill it."

"How?" Carmen breathed.

"I'm working on that," John said with a smile.

"Let us come with you." Sam said. "Let us help."

"No, Sam."

"Please, I have to be a part of this fight!"

"Not yet. This fight is just starting, and we're all going to have a part to play. But for now, you can't come with me. Listen, I heard about your girlfriend…about Jessica. I'm so sorry. And I know you want to get this thing as much as I do. But it's a nasty son of a bitch. I don't want you three caught in the crossfire."

"You don't have to worry about us." Sam said passionately. Carmen saw that he wanted to catch this demon so badly, maybe even more than John.

"Of course I do. I'm your father." He looked at all three of them, including Carmen. "Listen, Sammy. Last time we were together, we had one hell of a fight."

"Yes, sir." Sam looked weary.

John nodded, and looked as if he couldn't find the words. "It's good to see you, son. It's been a long time."

"Too long," Sam agreed. And then they embraced, and they both knew that all was forgiven.

"Listen, all three of you," John said as he looked at each one of them in turn. "I know you want to help. And you will get your chance. I promise. But for right now, you have to let me go my own way. In the nineteenth century, a hunter named Samuel Colt made a gun. The legend says that this gun can kill anything. Now it could just be a legend…or it could be exactly what we need. I'm going to hunt this gun down, and when I do, we'll go after The Demon."

"And what should we do until then?" Sam questioned. "Just sit here and wait?"

"No, do exactly what you've been doing. Working jobs. Saving as many people as you can, and killing every evil thing that you can find."

Sam nodded, and John turned to go. "I'll be in touch." He said as he looked back.

"Dad," Sam said. "Be careful."


	6. Home

**A/N: Be prepared, these next two chapters get pretty intense. Please review :)**

* * *

Dean pulled the Impala into a beaten-up gas station off the main road. It had been 12 hours since John had shown up in their motel room, and it was as if all three of them had been revived. Seeing John reminded them all of their purposes when it came to hunting.

Dean hopped out to fill the gas tank, and Carmen sat on the hood of the car chatting with him, legs crossed beneath her.

"There were so many things I wanted to ask him," Carmen stated when Dean brought up John. "There was so much I wanted to say, but I just blanked at the sight of him."

"I know. I was so stunned to see him." Dean shook his head. "I almost feel less satisfied than before we spoke. I just wish he would tell us where he's going, ya know, keep in touch. It's what he's preached to us all these years." Carmen could detect the undertone of distress in his voice.

"He'll be okay, Dean." Carmen said reassuringly. Her sincerity made Dean look up from the pump and catch her eye. "We forgot to tell him we have his journal," she pointed out, retrieving the tattered book from her jacket pocket.

Behind her, Carmen heard the screech of the Impala door opening.

"I'm getting some food," Sam called to them, abandoning the passenger's seat and walking towards the station shop. "You guys want anything?"

"Nah, I'm good." Dean replied.

"Can you get me a box of Dark Chocolate Raisinetes?" Carmen called absentmindedly as she leafed through the pages of John's journal.

At her words, Sam froze mid-step, and Dean gasped next to her. When she looked up, both of them were looking at her fearfully, with unnaturally wide eyes. They exchanged worried glances.

"No," Dean whispered dramatically.

"Oh, crap." Sam sighed.

"What?" Carmen spat at them.

"Dark Chocolate Raisinetes…that can only mean one thing," explained Dean.

"What the HELL are you talking about?" Carmen exclaimed, becoming increasingly annoyed with them both.

"You only eat those when it's…that scary time…" Dean's words seemed to get caught in his throat and he couldn't go on.

"Of the month," Sam finished for him. They both shuttered.

"Oh, my God you two shitheads really need to grow up!"

"See?" Dean said to Sam. "Scary." They both chortled.

* * *

"Alright, where we holdin' up next?" asked Dean as they pulled out of the station.

"Actually, dad sent me another set of coordinates after he left last night. I can't believe we forgot to ask him about that." Sam shook his head, disappointed in himself. "I've been looking into them, and they coordinate to a town in New York. There was just recently a pretty nasty death there. A father with no history of violence or mental illness shot his daughter in cold blood in the middle of the night. Friends and neighbors say he was a nice guy, you know, the never-in-a-million-years type."

"So, Dad went Amityville on her, why is it our kinda thing?"

"Well, other than the fact that it sounds exactly like a vengeful spirit possession, Dad marked the city in his journal. It's not that far, and worth checking out." Sam glanced over at his brother.

"Sam, what's the city?" Carmen asked as casually as she could manage from the backseat.

"Uh…Medford. Medford, New York."

Carmen almost lost her lunch as Dean said, "Medford, New York it is."

They soon arrived at a motel just outside of Medford, and checked into their room. As Sam and Dean bantered, Carmen was lost in thought. She was back in New York for the first time in ten years, and she could feel the proximity of her hometown weighing down on her. She didn't want to go back there, but she was afraid if she protested, Sam and Dean would demand a reason. She had concealed her past from them all her life; she couldn't let the truth come out now.

"Carmen? Carmen!" Dean snapped his fingers in front of her face. She was in the dingy motel room without knowing how she got there.

She jumped. "What?" She asked forcefully, trying to pretend she had been listening.

"What's up with you, you've barely said a word since we left that gas station? Sam and I were just joking about all that 'time of the month' crap."

She shook her head. "I know. It's nothing; I'm just wiped from the last hunt. I need a break."

"What?" Sam said incredulously. "I know I've been away, but that's the first time I've ever heard you admit to wanting to get some rest. I can't believe what I'm hearing."

"Yeah, well, believe it." She said in her usual sarcastic tone. "I'm going out." She barked, and, throwing up her black hood, sped out the door.

Dean and Sam traded confused looks.

"Definitely that time," muttered Dean.

* * *

"What's going on?" Carmen asked, confused. When she had arrived back at the motel, she had encountered Dean on Sam's laptop doing research (a rare occurrence) and heard a retching sound coming from the bathroom.

"Sam's sick," said Dean. "Looks…and smells…like food poisoning."

Carmen rolled her eyes. "Probably from that sketchy gas station we stopped at." Just then, Sam appeared in the bathroom doorway, a slight gleam of sweat on his forehead. His arm was around his stomach, and he was breathing like he had just run a marathon.

"I'm never…eating gas station food…again." He stooped to pick up the garbage can and eased himself down onto the bed with a slight groan. Carmen retrieved a cloth from the bathroom, ran it under cold water, and rang it out. She gently dabbed it over Sam's face to cool him off. After a while, he drifted off to sleep.

"Dean, can I talk to you for a minuet?" Carmen asked.

"Yeah, what's up?"

She nodded towards the door, and Dean followed her outside. With a glance over her shoulder to make sure no one was around, she admitted to Dean her misgivings.

"Dean, I think we should get out of here."

He raised an eyebrow at her. "What?"

"I think we should leave, now. I have a really bad feeling about this hunt…there's an uneasiness that I just can't shake."

"Carmen, we haven't even started yet."

"I know, but it's this place, this town, it's freaking me out. And now Sam has food poisoning? That has to be a bad omen or something."

"A bad omen? Since when do you believe in superstitions? And since when does eating some crap food and getting sick constitute as-"

Carmen cut him off. "I know, Dean. But I also know when to trust my intuition, alright? It's telling me to put as much distance between us and this town as possible!"

Dean glanced around him. There were green trees surrounding the quiet street. His eyes encountered the park across the way that offered as a blank canvass where young children could come and create imaginary worlds where they could escape. He saw an old couple holding hands as they chatted merrily on the sidewalk.

"You get that feeling from _this_ town?" Dean looked at her with suspicion.

"Yes, Dean! And I know when to trust a feeling!"

He looked at her as if she were totally crazy. "Alright, I'll tell you what. We'll go and check out the house, do a little research, and if you still can't shake this feeling, we'll call someone else."

"Dean, I'm not checking out the house! What don't you understand about this? We need to get out of here!"

"I'm not leaving a town we just got into without at least seeing what were up against!"

"Why can't you just trust me for once?"

"I said we'll go after we-"

"That's not what I want! I guarantee you, there will be consequences in continuing this hunt."

"So _we_ won't. You can stay here with Sam; I'm going to drive by the house." He retrieved his car key from his jacket pocket and made his way toward the Impala.

"Dean, no!" Carmen shouted after him, but she could not get into that car next to him. She was too terrified of where it would take her. Dean peeled out of the parking lot and sped away.

An angry outburst escaped Carmen as she kicked the garbage pale sitting next to her. She looked desperately after Dean, wishing there was something she could have said that would have made him change his mind.

But there was nothing. She knew that things were going to change.

* * *

Back in the motel room, poor Sam was retching in the bathroom once more. Carmen knew she had to put on a brave face for him. There was no stopping Dean and his crusade, but Sam couldn't become privy to what happened in her past. He stumbled out of the bathroom, his face white as a ghost (so to speak).

"How're you feeling?" She asked tentatively, leaning against the table in the corner. He just groaned miserably and plopped down on the bed closest to the bathroom. She couldn't help her mouth curling up into a half smile. She went over and placed a hand to his forehead.

"There's a convenience store down the street," she told him. "We passed it on the way in. I can go see if I can find you some meds."

His answering groan made her chuckle again as she left the motel room and ventured out into her hometown.

* * *

They had not, in fact, passed a convenience store on the way into town. However, Carmen knew where she could find one within walking distance. Stanley's. When she was young, Carmen would stop there on her way home from school everyday without fail, unless she was on a hunt with her father. At first, her stops there had been legitimate - to buy a piece of candy, or even browse the small selection of books the store offered. After a while, she would stop there even if she didn't need anything, just to procrastinate going home.

The man who owned the store, Mr. Stanley Copper, and Carmen had developed a sort of friendship during those visits. In fact, Mr. Copper was her only friend while she lived in this town. The man was always in the store, and took notice that Carmen came in almost every day around the same time. Sometimes, she would stay until the shop closed at 9. Mr. Copper would let her do her homework at the small but sturdy wooden table in the back, and let her read the books without actually buying them. Or sometimes they would spend the afternoons sharing memories, Carmen about her mother, and Mr. Copper about his deceased wife, Amelia. Carmen loved hearing about Amelia, and how Mr. Copper had courted her when they were young (Mr. Copper was in his sixties), and Carmen was glad for the opportunity to talk about her mother. Her father would never speak of her, and Carmen was afraid that if she didn't talk about her, she would start to forget things. She was very afraid of forgetting her mother.

As she turned the corner now, she was relieved to see that Stanley's shop was still standing, and still bore the name Stanley's. She was sure that Mr. Copper would not be there now; he had to be over seventy. Carmen hoped he was happily retired, maybe on a beach somewhere with a tropical drink in hand.

When she opened the door, the familiar smell hit Carmen like a tidal wave. It instantly dragged her back to her childhood. This was the smell of comfort, but it also caused her grief. She remembered feeling safe here, but with the knowledge that the feeling couldn't last constantly hovering over her.

She slowly walked around the small convenience store. It hadn't changed much, except she thought it was smaller than she remembered. But perhaps she had gotten bigger. Or maybe it was even her view of the world that had grown. She knew exactly where the over-the-counter medicine that Sam needed was located, but she took her time browsing the store, pausing at the array of books that she had devoured cover to cover as a child. It was possible that she was looking at the exact same copies she had once read.

She reached the medicines, grabbed the one that would calm Sam's stomach, and made her way to the register. It was vacant.

"Hello?" She called softly. There was a door behind the counter that she knew led to a storage room. It was slightly ajar.

The man that shuffled out of it was none other than Mr. Stanley Copper.

"Hello, my dear, how can I help you?" He asked cheerily. His hair had grown even greyer and he seemed frailer, but not altogether senile. He looked at her with polite curiosity at first, but as he took in her face, his look became increasingly searching.

"Hi. Just this please." Mr. Copper stared at her for just a moment longer than necessary, and Carmen knew he was trying to place her face. But she couldn't tell Mr. Copper about her life without revealing things that needed to stay buried. To avoid his gaze, she let her eyes wander around the store. They landed on a flyer, with a very familiar black and white photograph of a girl of eleven, with the word MISSING in large red font on the top.

The girl smiling up at her from the photograph was her own eleven year old self.

"Her name was Carmen," Mr. Copper said when he noticed her staring at the flyer. "She went missing about ten years ago." Carmen looked away from it quickly. She had never known that he had searched for her, or that anyone has searched for her, after she disappeared.

"Were you close?" Carmen asked breathlessly.

He scrutinized her, and then inclined his head. "She rarely bought anything, but she was my best customer." He handed her the medicine and she handed him some cash.

"Thank you." Carmen said, and headed towards the door. She had her hand on the handle before she heard Mr. Copper.

"Carmen?" He whispered with trepidation. She turned back to him, looking at his deeply lined and kind face. She smiled, and nodded her head.

"It was good to see you, Mr. Copper." And she left.

* * *

On her way back to the room, Carmen wondered how far Dean had gotten with the hunt. Did he visit the house? Was he doing research? Would he come back and confirm her suspicions about this hunt…? She reached for her phone and sent him a quick message.

_You good?_

She was still angry with him for pursuing this hunt when she had practically begged him not to, but, of course, she didn't want anything to happen to him. He answered quickly, and just as briefly.

_Fine._

Fine then.

Despite the brevity of Dean's response, Carmen came into the motel room feeling slightly lighter than she had been before she had visited her old place of salvation. She had thought little of her convenience store companion over the last few years, but she was happy that she could give him some piece of mind over her disappearance. At least he would know that she wasn't dead. Carmen wasn't often touched, but seeing that Mr. Copper had still kept her photo close after all this time stirred that sort of emotion in her heart.

When she got back to the room, she was pleased to see that Sam was snoozing on the bed instead of in the bathroom purging, however there was still the sheen of sweat on his skin of one who is ill. She placed the medicine on the bedside table and busied herself with trivial things such as tidying up around the room and folding clothes in her suitcase. It faltered as a distraction technique. She couldn't force her mind away from Dean and what he may be uncovering.

Finally she gave up, and simply paced the room. She hated waiting, but she couldn't bring herself to go out and search for Dean. She glanced at Sam. He could never know about her past. She considered what would happen if the truth about her came out: she imagined Sam's face, and the disappointed and disgusted look she conjured was too much for her. She pushed it away. She considered that she might be forced to leave him and Dean. It was another thought that was just too painful.

"Carmen," Sam said softly. She turned to him, thinking he had awakened, but he had not. "Carmen." He sounded more distressed this time. He was having a nightmare.

"Sam, it's okay," she soothed as she knelt down next to the bed. He was moving around slightly. She put a shaky hand on his forehead and wiped the moisture away. "Wake up." She gently shook him.

He stopped moving, and Carmen looked down at him affectionately. But suddenly-  
"Shit!" Carmen jumped back, frightened. Sam swung a gigantic fist toward her that barely cleared her head.

Sam sat up quickly, opened his eyes and took one deep breath. He looked around the room, bewildered. His eyes rested on Carmen.

"Oh, no. Carmen, I'm sorry, did I hurt you?"

"Nearly took my head off." She sighed and laughed in relief. "Nearly. You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. It was just a nightmare…" They locked eyes. The talking, the groaning, the distress…was it just a nightmare?

Carmen was unconvinced, but as she opened her mouth to inquire, the motel room door suddenly swung open, interrupting their conversation, and making them both snap their heads towards the door.

Dean stood staring at Carmen, and the look in his eyes was incomprehensible. For a moment he just stared.

In that moment, staring into Dean's eyes, Carmen knew her secrets had been uncovered and resigned herself to her fate. Without a word, she walked past Dean and out of the room. He followed.

She just looked at him, waiting for the wrath.

"Why didn't you tell me?" He asked.

"Tell you what, Dean?" She spat.

"Don't act like that, Carmen. Don't play dumb and get defensive. This is your hometown! This is where you lived before… Before we knew you."

Carmen bit her lip and remained silent – she wasn't going to give anything away.

"Come on, C, why can't you just be real with me? I know this must be hard for you, it would be for me, too, if we were back in Lawrence. But it's a hunt, and innocent people are getting hurt. You're going to have insight into this case that nobody else can give us. You know the area, you know the people, you know the house better than anyone-"

"What?" All the air was punched out of Carmen's lungs. "Why would I know the house…"

"Well, you lived there."

Her suspicions were confirmed. "It's my old house?" She breathed. She turned away from Dean for fear of him seeing the terror in her eyes.

"You didn't know?" He asked gently.

"NO!" She whipped around with tears glistening in her eyes. "How would I know, Dean, I told you I wasn't going to pursue this hunt!"

"I'm sorry Carmen. Losing your father…it must have been hard."

"Don't talk to me about my father," she spat venomously. "You didn't even know him, you just found out about him while doing all your fucking research."

Dean shook his head. "Actually, Dad told me some things."

_Obviously not everything, _Carmen thought_, or you wouldn't be speaking about him like this._

"But there was an article that I found in the library database. It speculated the events of that night, but, of course, you are the only person who really knows what happened. You're the only one who can tell us what we're up against here. Because whatever took your father could be hurting people again now."

Carmen couldn't look Dean in the eye. He had absolutely no idea what he had gotten himself into.

"Anyway, the article mentioned your father, but it focused mainly on you and what happened to you after you disappeared. It seemed like everyone was pretty upset and worried about you."

"There was only one person who missed me." Carmen said under her breath.

"I can see that this is hurting you, Carmen. But if this were any other case, what would we be doing right now? Talking to the families involved. That's you, C."

She heaved a sigh. He wasn't going to let this go. She glanced back towards the door, towards Sam…

"Okay, Dean. I'll help you. I'll do the hunt, but on three conditions. First, we do this my way. You have to follow my lead on this, alright? You said it yourself; I'm going to have greater insight into this case than you, so you're going to have to trust me. Second, Sam will find out nothing. We're doing this completely without him."

"Why?" Dean interrupted.

"Because he doesn't need to know." She answered shortly. "Third, if I say bail, for whatever reason, no matter what, we bail. We're gone. You won't argue. I'll give you my word that I'll go as far I can with this, but if I say so, we call someone else and we never look back. Agreed?"

Dean scrutinized her, considering her proposal. "Agreed," he finally answered.

"Okay," she stared at him for a moment, soaking in the immensity of this job. "Okay. I want to know exactly what happened in that house since I left. Everything. And I'm especially curious about this last family."

"Why, Carmen? That's all unnecessary! You already know what's in that house, you already escaped it."

"There's no guarantee that it's the same thing, Dean." She knew it wasn't the same thing, but she didn't want to give Dean that knowledge. "I think I know, but I want all the information we can get. I can't do this one half cocked."

* * *

That night, they broke into the police station to get the records of the house. Carmen found the evidence from the last murder: a man of thirty-six lived in the house with his daughter, eleven, for almost two years. Interviews from friends and neighbors revealed nothing offbeat. Apparently, after the father divorced the mother, the father was granted custody and moved himself and his daughter to Medford to start new lives. The father was part of the PTA and coached his daughter's soccer team. It would seem that they were very close.

"Justin Walker is his name," Carmen told Dean. "He's awaiting trial in the county jail."

"We should talk to him," Dean suggested. "Get his side of the story. If it was a possession, the cops would have just thought he was crazy."

"Maybe he is."

"Doubt it." Dean walked away to continue whatever research he was conducting, but Carmen was lost in thought. A father and a daughter, living alone in that house, starting new lives… It sounded all too familiar. Although, Carmen's father had never been a PTA parent. Her father had died in that house, and saying that his death was violent was an understatement. Carmen didn't want to believe that this was the angry spirit of her father, but all evidence so far pointed to just such a case.

"C! Come here." Dean called from behind a bookcase. "I found the records of the house. Since you lived there, four families have been in and out, including the Walkers. Don't you think that's a lot of buying and selling? Why would the house trade hands so many times?"

"Maybe it's haunted." Carmen joked dryly.

* * *

"You okay?" Dean looked over at her from the driver's side. Carmen's eyes were fixed on the house, the setting of every single one of her nightmares. She unconsciously caressed the scar under her eye. Once they were finished with the police records, Dean convinced Carmen that it was necessary to examine the house.

"Not even a little," her voice shook as she spoke, but she forced herself to get out of the safety of the Impala and into the cool night.

The house could have been beautiful, or it could have been terrifying, depending on the eye looking upon it. The driveway leading up to it was long and winding, surrounded by trees that curled overhead. The house contained two stories and a dark cedar porch that wrapped all the way around the base. It was deserted now; the windows were dark eyes that glared down at her, warning her that she shouldn't be anywhere near this place. She could feel the shadows and skeletons that resided here, in her own private hell.

"I'm going around back," Dean whispered. Carmen wanted to protest, she wanted him to stay by her side, but didn't want Dean to think her scared. As far as he knew, she was perfectly comfortable here in her childhood. As far as he knew, this was home.

It was the farthest she had from a home.

Every instinct was telling her to turn back, screaming at her to grab Dean and run. But of course she would feel that way, considering all that happened here. She needed to remember that her memories were only memories, that this was just a hunt. She could handle it.

With an effort, she controlled her rapid breathing and forced her feet to take her to the porch, to the heavy front door, and inside her worst nightmare.

The front room was dark, but the moonlight filtered in through the naked windows. To anyone other than her, it would have been a cozy room to step into. Plush couches surrounded a round coffee table made of dark wood. A small but modern flat screen television hung on the wall facing her, and there was an ornate stove fireplace against the far wall. Although the furnished room was new to her, the skeleton of the house was all too familiar. She remembered how she would sit with her books in the corner of this room where there now sat a large flower pot. The wall that separated this room from the next was thick and behind it was a small hallway. That hallway always made her feel trapped, claustrophobic, like the walls would close in on her at any second. When she was hungry, and she needed to brave that hallway to get to the kitchen beyond, she would always take it at a run.

There seemed to be nothing threatening in the cozy front room. She took a timid step forward and let the front door close her in. It was silent, so silent that she was afraid she had gone deaf. She felt as if the mere sound of her footsteps might shatter the windows. With her heart pounding rapidly, she searched the room, unsure of what she was looking for. She felt the soft plush couches, opened the stove fireplace, and examined the large flowerpot in the corner. A few times she glanced over her shoulder, feeling a prickling on the back of her neck, as if someone was watching her.

She found nothing extraordinary here. Although she still felt timid, there seemed to be no immediate threats. She walked stealthily towards the hallway leading to the kitchen. Carmen knew she should head up the stairs to her right, to scope out the room where Mr. Walker had shot his daughter, but she was avoiding it. She felt slightly safer down here.

She turned the corner to the hallway and came nose to nose with the overwhelming dark form of her father.

Her heart dropped into her stomach.

His eyes were wide and menacing, his teeth bared and bloody. His brute shoulders blocked the entire hallway, making it impossible to pass. A feral growl emanated from his throat. There was a bullet wound through his chest, blood oozing from it and drenching the floor.

"Carmen!" He snarled and charged toward her.

She couldn't breathe, she couldn't think, she could barely see! Fear blinded her. Her only reaction was to flee. She tore through the front room and ripped the door from her path, knowing that the monster was on her heels.

Once she had escaped the house, she ran, without knowing where she was running to. She was just running _away._ Her face was chilled both from the crisp October night and the tears that dampened her cheeks. The tears and her untied hair flying wildly around her face blinded her. She practically fell backwards when she collided with something solid.

"Carmen! Carmen, what's wrong? It's okay, you're okay." Dean's arms were protectively around her, and his eyes raked the empty yard around them. Although his assertive voice spoke comforting words, she felt no relief from the panic infecting her. She gripped his shoulders tightly as she tried to blink the tears away from her eyes.

"Get me out of here!" She sobbed into his chest.

"Carmen, look at me, clam down."

"No Dean! Get me out of here! Take me away NOW, please, I can't be here, I can't!" She was so close to loosing control and breaking down, but she couldn't until Dean understood her. She couldn't be calm here! She had to leave. Her mind couldn't process anything except distancing herself.

He looked at her and saw desperation in her eyes that he had never before seen. That look sent fear down into his very bones. It was more than a request, more than a plea. It was life or death.

He grabbed her by the arm and took her to where the Impala sat waiting, all the while looking over his shoulder for the thing that had caused such a reaction in Carmen. He never saw it.

Dean put Carmen into the passenger's seat of the car, and by the time he had gotten around to his side, she had slipped onto the floor between the seat and the dashboard, in the tiny little space there. She hugged her knees to her chest and buried her head in her arms. Dean could see her shoulders shake while she sobbed. He suddenly flashed back to the night Sam had left. It was the only other time he'd seen her loose control like this, and even then it wasn't as extreme as now. He peeled out of the driveway, into the street and drove, putting as much distance as he could between the house and Carmen. He drove past the motel, past the town, and parked by a small, secluded dock overlooking a lake.

Cutting the engine, Dean looked down at Carmen's head. It looked as if she was frozen; her shoulders no longer shook with her silent sobs. He was lost for words. She was still, and he was still with her.

Finally she took a deep breath, and it was as if the world had stopped, and only started turning again as she sighed. She lifted her head and, without a word, slowly got out of the Impala. Dean copied her, and went around to the passenger's side to find her sitting with her back leaning on the car. He sat down next to her, his shoulder resting against hers, and offered her a comforting hand. They silently gazed out into the lake.

"Was it him?" Dean asked cautiously. "Was it your father?"

Carmen nodded minutely. "Don't tell Sam," she whispered.

"Not if you don't want me to," Dean obliged, scrutinizing her. Why didn't she want Sam to know?

"I don't think I can do this, Dean," she whispered. "I tried, but…"

"Seeing him again must have been so hard, C."

"No, Dean! It was more than hard! It wasn't painful; it was terrifying. It was petrifying. It was more than I could handle."

"I don't understand…"

"You think you know what happened all those years ago, Dean. You think my father and I had a great life, a strong relationship, and it was a tragedy for me when he was killed. But you're wrong. My whole life was a tragedy. And I was the one who killed him!"

"What?"

"I killed my father."


	7. Truth

Dean took his comforting hand away from her shoulder and jumped up. "You…you what?"

"I'm sorry, I never wanted you to find out. I never wanted anyone to find out. I don't want…I didn't think…."

"You shouldn't feel responsible for what happened to him."

"Dean, you don't get it! I did it! It was me, I shot him…I shot him."

He looked at her, unbelieving, his mind racing, but at the same time, his mind was frozen. "You killed him?" He had to say it out loud just to believe it. Carmen couldn't say anything because of the uncomfortable lump building in her throat. "Jesus…Carmen, how could you keep this from us all these years?" Dean's anger was mounting as the reality of what he was hearing sank in. "He was your family! And now WE are your family! We LIVE TOGETHER! Sam fell in love with you, and we had no idea who you really were! You're…you're a murderer."

"I'm the same person you've known all your life! I haven't changed, I've just been protecting you from-"

"You haven't been protecting anyone, you've been putting us all in danger! Dad never would have raised you like his own daughter if he had known what you'd done!"

"John DOES know! He's the only one who knows what happened, and he's the one who protected me from ever being found!"

This caught Dean off guard. John knew, and he let this murderer stay with his family?

"I tried so hard to keep this buried, Dean. I never wanted you to know. But I guess I don't really have a choice now. It's time for you to know my story. Please, before you condemn me, just listen. Listen, and then if you decide to abandon me, which is a possibility, then I won't begrudge you."

Dean crossed his arms and waited. Carmen confessed her story.

"I knew John for longer than you probably realize. Since I was 10 years old. The first time I met him was on a hunt…but maybe I should start from the beginning. I started off living with my mother…but I lost her when I was nine years old. It was devastating for me. She was my absolute best friend in the world. We moved around a lot for hunts…she was such a kick ass hunter." She digressed.

"She must have been," Dean spat. "She was _your_ mom." He said it venomously, but there was as inevitable affection that crept into his eyes.

Carmen's mouth quirked up despite herself. "Anyway, I didn't mind moving. I made friends here and there, but I never was able to get close to anyone. You know how it is…you can never tell them who you really are. But I didn't mind, because I had her."

"She raised you as a hunter?" Dean asked grudgingly. He didn't want to feel sympathy for her, but it was out of his control. He knew how hard and painful it was to lose a mother.

"Not exactly. I don't think any parent would want this dangerous life for their children. But she taught me what was out there, and how to defend myself. She didn't want me to be ignorant to the dangers in the world. But at the same time, she wanted me to have a normal life. It was an impossible balance, but she tried.

"Her death is not something I think about often. I try not to, because it sort of taints my memory of her, and it's painful…just like I know it is for you to think about your mother." Dean's jaw clenched, but he didn't interrupt.

"My mom was sarcastic and tough, like I am, but she was also loving and funny and just…wonderful. And I miss her. Every day, I miss her so much. Her death should have been the worst thing that has ever happened to me. It deserves that title, you know? The Worst Thing. But it wasn't. Not by far.

"Up until my mother's death, I had seen my father only on holidays, and never alone. I didn't really know him. But when she was killed, I had no choice but to move in with him. Both my mother's parents had passed away, and she had had no siblings. He was the only person in the world I'd had left. All of a sudden, I had lost my mother and was shipped off to live with a stranger. It was fine for maybe a year, as fine as it could have been. My father and I didn't talk much; I stayed out of his way and he made sure to stay out of mine. He never spoke about my mother, not once, and he kept no pictures. The only photo I had of her, he ended up burning.

"He burned your only picture?" Dean asked, incredulous.

"He was a monster, Dean. And it only got worse when he started hunting again.

"He was a relentless hunter. He didn't do it to save lives and destroy evil like my mom did, like we do, or like most hunters; he hunted to keep himself alive and out of prison. If he hadn't been killing and torturing demons and ghosts, he would have been doing it to innocent humans. Killing was in his blood; he enjoyed it. He really was a monster.

"Sometimes, if he was on a difficult hunt, he would need to lure whatever creature he was after out into the open. So he would bring me into the woods, or into a cold cave, or a sewer, and he would tell me to sit down and stay still. He even tied me up a few times, so I was completely defenseless. He used me as bait. Sometimes I would be sitting there for hours, not knowing what kind of monsters could be hiding in the shadows. He was risking his own daughters life and it didn't phase him in the least."

"He used you as bait? Carmen, that's…" Dean couldn't even find the words.

She chuckled darkly. "And you think that's bad…" she muttered to herself.

"But that doesn't give you justification for killing him!" He exclaimed as if remembering his anger and trying to bury his sympathy.

"Oh, Dean, I'm so far from done." She heaved a sigh and continued.

"My father was a very heavy drinker. He was like that since before I came to live with him." Carmen said in a low voice. "But in the years that I was with him, it had gotten worse and worse, and when he started hunting again…" She trailed off, not wanting to remember. "We came home one night, after a brutal hunt. My father had tied me up, but the monster never fell for the bait. After hours and hours of sitting and waiting, he finally gave up. He was so angry that we hadn't captured it. He was yelling at me, blaming me for his failure. 'Why didn't you do better?' 'Why couldn't you have made more noise?' He would drink and yell and drink and yell…

"And one night, I'd had enough of his yelling. I screamed back at him 'It's not my fault!' And he came at me, and smashed an empty bottle over my head."

She paused, grudgingly remembering, and Dean reached out and touched the still prominent scar below her eye. It was one of the rare instances when she didn't slap his hand away. Instead she gave a slight nod in affirmation to his unspoken question.

"And then," she continued, "he hit me, until everything went black. From then on, instead of drinking and yelling, he would drink and hit."

"He hit you," Dean breathed. He was suddenly seeing her though new eyes: not as a murderer, but as a victim. This girl, whom he thought was so tough, who could handle anything without breaking, whom he loved since he had first met, had experienced such trauma in her early years. He looked at her as if she was a flower, and any gust of wind could tear off every one of her precious petals and destroy her. He wished he could protect her from such destruction.

Dean's emotions were welling up inside him, but as Carmen related her story, she felt as if she was outside of herself. Her eyes were glazed over and she was simply reporting these past events; there was no emotion tied to her words. However, she could not recall the next events without feeling the pain and the terror and shame that had once ripped through her chest.

"I just wish it ended there," Carmen whispered. Dean's mouth hung open.

"Dean, you remember when John first took me in…I was thirteen, but I looked as though I could have been seventeen?"

He nodded, unable to formulate coherent words.

"Well, I suppose I had always looked old for my age…" Once again, she trailed off. For years she had blocked off her memory of this. She had buried it so far down, but despite her best efforts, every detail was still vividly etched in her memory. Consciously retrieving it was something she had never before done in her life. The emotion tied to it threatened to overwhelm her, to drown her so she could not breathe.

"I couldn't tell you the first time it happened." Carmen tried to steady her voice, but to no avail. "I think I probably blocked it out. But for months and months, we'd go on hunts, and if it ended badly, he would beat me. If it ended the way he'd wanted it to, he'd get excited and he'd…do things to me that were worse by far than the beatings."

"No," Dean breathed. His anger had evaporated and sympathy and fear and love for this girl replaced it. Carmen's face crumpled.

"No matter where I ran, not matter how hard I fought, I couldn't stop it. I hated him so much, Dean. I hated myself. I was ashamed that my mother was somewhere watching over me, and seeing that this was my fate. And I couldn't take it anymore." She sobbed, but her story wasn't over.

"I met John on a hunt in Chicago. He had been a friend of my mothers, and he knew my father wasn't a good person. I don't think he ever knew the extent, until…

"John and I became close, very quickly. He would tell me about my mother, and about his sons that he loved so much. And he could tell that something was wrong with me." Carmen eyes betrayed the pain she felt at these words. "He told me to call him if I ever needed anything, but I knew I never could. My father had threatened me enough times that I knew I could never leave."

"I wouldn't have been able to survive there for much longer, Dean. It was a night like any other, and I knew exactly what to expect when we came home from the hunt. I locked myself in my room, but he hammered on the door, until I felt like he was banging on the inside of my head. He broke the door handle. I fought him harder that night than I ever had…and he beat me harder than he ever had. When I was bloody and delirious, he forced me on the bed. I waited until he was vulnerable, and then I pulled out the gun from under my pillow, and shot him in the chest. Directly through the heart, no mistakes. He bled to death within sixty seconds. That was it; his life was over. I was badly beaten, and I was weak. I'll never know how, but John came through my bedroom door and saved my life. He carried me out and brought me back to the motel where you and Sam were asleep. He cleaned me up, then went back to my house to make sure no one would ever find me. He burned my father's body and scattered the ashes.

"I know it was murder, Dean. I know what I did was wrong. I could have told someone; I could have told John. But never once have I regretted what I did to him. That may make me a monster. Maybe it makes me just as horrible and heartless as he was. But that night was the turning point, Dean. It was going to be either a bullet in his chest, or a bullet through my own heart."

She looked out over the dark water to avoid looking into Dean's assessing eyes. It was over; Dean knew everything, and now he would leave her. Now she would lose him, and Sam as well….

"Sam wasn't sleeping that night, you know." Dean whispered. Carmen chanced a glance at him. "Sam was awake, and he saw you. He saw dad carry you into the room, and you were so bloodied up that it terrified him."

"How do you know that?" Carmen breathed the question.

"He told me," Dean looked over at her and actually smirked. "The next day, he asked me why someone would do that to such a beautiful angel."

This took Carmen's breath away.

"Dean, I don't want you to leave me. But I understand if you have to. If you can't handle this…fine. But please finish this hunt. I can't let my father hurt any more people! And please, please, I am begging you, don't tell Sam. He doesn't need to know! It would only do harm by telling him, okay? No good can come from him knowing."

"He would want to know, C. He would want to help you through it-"

"After this hunt, I won't need help getting through anything! Please, Dean. Let him stay ignorant."

He looked at her for a long moment, contemplating her. His brow creased as his mind worked, and Carmen stared back at him, trying to etch every detail of him into her memory. She never wanted to forget him when he left.

When he moved, it was slowly, as if every movement was calculated. He stepped toward her, then put his arms around her and held her tightly to him.

"I'm not going anywhere, C," he whispered into her hair. "You were strong in what you did. I couldn't imagine not knowing you, not having you with me every day…I'm grateful he got the bullet instead of you."

Carmen let out a long breath of relief, mingled with a sob, and hugged him back.


	8. Confrontation

"If you can't do this, we can call someone else." Dean offered as he released her.

"No," she declined. "I want to know that he's gone. I want to know that his spirit will rot in hell for the rest of eternity, and that he can never hurt anyone else."

"We're going to have to go back there. Back to you're old house."

"Tomorrow," She whispered. "We'll go tomorrow. I just want to get back to Sam." As she said this, the enormity of how much she missed him crashed down on her. She felt drained and unnaturally weak. She hated the feeling of weakness, and she knew seeing Sam would revive her.

Dean held her hand as they drove back to the motel.

"So, Dad burned the body?" Dean asked. Carmen nodded. "Knowing Dad, he was thorough. He wouldn't have missed anything. The spirit must be tied to the house somehow."

"That doesn't make sense. He was nomadic for hunts."

Dean heaved a sigh. "Carmen, I have to ask…the things he did to you…was it always in that house?"

"No," Carmen pursed her lips. "He wasn't picky."

Dean glanced sympathetically over at her and gently gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. She was grateful for the contact. "All the deaths have been inside the house, in one of the rooms on the second floor. There've been-"

"Dean, I don't want to know." She cut him off.

"Sorry," He sighed in frustration at himself and the situation. "I'm just saying, all the research I did was contingent with the theory that the spirit is tied to the house."

"Fine." She said shortly.

They arrived back at the motel and opened the door to find an empty room. Sam was not where they had left him.

"Where's Sam?" Carmen couldn't keep the anxiety out of her voice.

"Sam?" Dean called. He checked the bathroom. "Maybe he just went out for some food."

"No, something's not right." As she said it, Carmen experienced a blinding plain in her head. She cried out and clutched her temples, as her vision became blurry. Faintly, she heard Dean next to her calling her name but was unable to respond. She was no longer with him; she was miles away, in her childhood bedroom. She saw, in her mind, the ceiling of her bedroom. Involuntarily, her eyes traveled to the window that looked out into the sky. Then a single image of Sam, bloodied and weak, erupted in her mind.

Then suddenly, like a sling shot, like a rubber band stretched to its limits, she snapped back to her own mind. Blinking rapidly, she put her hand up to shield her eyes from the bright light that blinded her. Dean's face swam into her line of vision, and she realized her was shaking her.

"Carmen!" He called.

"He has Sam." She breathed. She tried to rise from her position on the floor, but Dean pushed her back down.

"Who does? Carmen, what the hell just happened?"

"I don't know, I had a vision or something. I saw my room through Sam's eyes; the spirit got to him!"

"You had a vision?"

"Yes! It felt like it was being forced into my head."

"You think Sam did it?"

"I don't know, Dean! All I know is that Sam's in trouble."

"But it couldn't have been the spirit; there's no way! It can't leave the house. How…?"

"We have to go, we have to get him out of there!" She made for the door, but Dean caught her arm.

"Carmen, stop! Think about this; what if it's a trap? What if Sam is fine, and this thing is planting images in your head to bait you? We can't just charge in there unarmed!"

"Then grab your gun."

* * *

This time, when they pulled into the long winding driveway, the Impala kicking up dust and skidding to a stop an inch away from the porch, Carmen jumped out and ran the length to the door. She didn't give herself time to feel timid or become fearful of what she needed to do. She paid Dean no attention, ripped the door out of her way and charged inside.

The door slammed closed behind her of its own accord. Her heart leapt in her chest. She was closed in and Dean was left outside. "Carmen!" He yelled from the other side. "Let me in!"

"I can't!" She yelled as she yanked on the door. "It's stuck." Her breath caught in her throat as fear took over. Her palms slipped from the brass handle due to the sweat that coated them. She turned around to face the room she had fled from not an hour earlier. Fear gripped her, but the vision of Sam, bound and beaten, trumped her fear.

She ignored Dean's hasty warnings to find a way out and ventured, with as much courage as she could summon, up the stairs. She held her gun aimed and cocked in front of her, but it offered little comfort. She could still hear Dean calling from outside, but his voice grew more and more distant.

"Sam?" Carmen meant to shout it, but it came out in a half-hearted whisper. Her voice was lost. She knew from her vision exactly where he was, but she wished more than anything that she didn't need to go there.

She reached the top of the stairs and stared at the hallway in front of her. The hallway turned right, and beyond that turn was her old room, the same room where Sam was being held. She could see, even before turning the corner, a faint gold light illuminating her path.

Carmen followed the light and found that it was emitting from the bedroom. She stood in the doorway, staring, impossibly, into the exact same room that she had slept in when she lived here. The color of the walls, the billowing curtains, and the furniture were all the same. Sam was lying on the same bed where she had slept all those years ago. There were bruises on his face and gashes down his chest, and Carmen wanted to run to him, to comfort him, and to get him out of that house. But Carmen was unable to step into the room.

She backed away from the door until she was pressed against the adjacent wall. She was almost too stunned to move. Her breaths were coming short and shallow into her lungs. She didn't see Sam tied to the bed anymore; she saw herself being pinned down, with her father on top of her.

There were too many demons to face in there.

"Sam," she called desperately. "Can you hear me? Are you alright? Sam, please answer me."

"Carmen, I'm tied up." Sam's voice was strained; he was badly hurt.

"I can't go in there. You have to untie yourself."

"I don't think I can." Sam winced. Carmen wanted desperately to help him, but her feet would not carry her into the room where she was violated so many times. When she looked at Sam on the bed, she saw herself, bloody and terrified, and her father advancing toward her…

"Come on, Sam, please try to get yourself out." His answering groan made her heart sink.

A crash from down the hallway made her jump out of her skin. Her father's rabid form came charging at her, and her only choice was to lock herself in her room. She slammed the door closed and pushed her back to it, barring it with all her might. Suddenly she was eleven again, alone, scared, and crying. Her father beat on the door, a prelude to what he was about to do to her.

"No, no, no," she cried. "Please, stop, stop it!"

"Carmen!" Sam called, but she couldn't hear him. "Carmen, listen to me!" It was useless.

A loud BANG from the other side of the door, and then silence. The beating had stopped, but the fear still infected Carmen's heart.

"Carmen!" Dean's voice from the other side of the door called to her. "It's me, let me in."

Carmen opened to the door to see Dean holding a rock salt loaded sawed-off. "You okay?" He asked, examining her. She nodded. Suddenly remembering Sam, she rushed to his side. Dean stayed at the doorway, aiming his shotgun.

"Sam, I'm sorry," Carmen whispered. Tears were running down her face as she untied his hands. "This is all my fault; I should have warned you, I should have told you everything, I'm so sorry."

Sam caught her frantic face between his hands. "Hey, look at me, Carmen, it's okay." His voice was weak, and he could barely lift his head. He wiped the tears away from her cheeks.

"I didn't want you to get hurt. I was trying to protect you." She sobbed. "I should have told you everything, but I was trying to shield you from it."

"I know." He said soothingly. She laid her head on his chest and he stroked her face gently. "It's your fear, Carmen. That's what your father's spirit is holding on to; that's why he's here!"

Carmen's head snapped up, shock on her features. "How did you know…?"

"This room. I saw everything, Carmen. I saw it all, in my visions. It wasn't your fault." Carmen's mouth hung open. Sam knew everything; he saw it all, and he wasn't casting her away. "You have to face your fear! You have to face what you did, and confront your father! You have to stop running from him. It's the only way to destroy him!"

Carmen's breath quickened, terror gripping her again. "I can't Sam, I can't do it!" Fresh tears sprang into her eyes.

As if on cue, a rumbling on the stairs signaled the return of the angry spirit. Carmen jumped up and drew her knife, as Dean raised his shotgun.

"Don't shoot, Dean." Sam said breathlessly. He looked up at Carmen. "You can do this."

Carmen looked towards the door, and when the rabid face of her father appeared and charged at her, she charged towards him, adrenaline pulsing through her body. She let out a yell and jammed the blade through his heart, this same place she had shot him. It wailed horribly, and the ghost finally vanished, exploding into thin air.

It was gone. The room was silent.

Then Carmen fell to her knees, unable to stand from the shock. Dean dropped his weapon and put his arms around her, pulling her up to her feet. She had faced her past, and Sam and Dean had faced it along side her. They knew her secret, but they embraced her instead of exiling her.

Carmen glanced at Sam, breathing heavily on the bed. He was in bad shape, and they needed to get him out of there. She rushed to his side once more, and examined his wounds. It seemed like her father had shown Sam exactly what her childhood had been like.

She cradled his beaten face in her hands. "Can you walk?" She asked. He nodded, and attempted to get on his feet. With Dean and Carmen's assistance, he managed to get down the stairs and out to the sanctuary of the Impala.

* * *

Carmen was sitting outside the motel room waiting when Dean finally came out. "He's going to be fine," he reported. "He's hurting pretty bad right now, but he'll be okay."

"He probably just needs some rest." Carmen said softly. "That's what used to cure me."

Dean looked over to her. "Carmen, I'm sorry."

"For what?" She asked, perplexed.

"For every time I got mad at you for being rude, or angry, or sarcastic. I didn't realize where it came from. I never realized what you went through." Dean hung his head.

Raising Dean's face to look at her, she whispered, "You have nothing to be sorry for." Dean held her hand in his. "In fact, I owe you a huge thank you. I never could have done this without you. I never would have faced this without you."

Dean nodded. "Well, I better get going."

"Where?" She asked, fearful for a moment. Was he leaving after all that?

"I rented another room. I figured you and Sammy…well, you must have a lot to talk about."

"Thanks, Dean." He embraced her, held her tightly to him. If he could, he would have watched over her all night. He wouldn't have let her leave his sight. But that wasn't his job. That was Sam's role to play for her. He kissed her forehead and hugged her again.

"God, C, I can't let you go," He laughed, but it was to cover the emotion in his voice.

"You don't have to," she said. But Dean pulled away.

"Go look after Sammy."

* * *

Carmen opened the motel room door and was greeted with darkness. In the moment that the light from the street infiltrated the room, Carmen could see Sam's bandaged up chest and bruised face. She closed to door to envelope them in darkness once more.

"Carmen?" Sam called.

"It's me, Sammy." She sat on the bed next to him, stroking his hair affectionately. They sat in the dark silence together for a while before either of them spoke.

"Carmen," Sam said softly. "We need to talk about the visions I had in that room tonight."

"I know we do."

Sam was caught off guard. He expected Carmen to argue until she was blue in the face. "Alright. The things I saw…were they real?"

Carmen heaved a deep sigh. "Yes, they were. The things you saw him do to me…that's how my life was when I lived with him."

"I saw you kill him." Sam said. Carmen nodded, lost for words. "It wasn't your fault, you know that, right?"

"Sam, I pulled the trigger."

"He didn't give you a choice."

Carmen couldn't quite believe that, but she didn't protest. "This was," she ran her fingers lightly over the bandages on his stomach. She bent down and lightly kissed every bandage. She slowly moved to the one on his chest.

Then, without thinking about it, she softly kissed his lips. It felt as if they had never stopped kissing, like they had perfected the rhythm and could never forget it. Sam rested his hand on her cheek, and when she pulled away, he gently guided her back to his lips for more. Finally, when they were both breathless and emotional, Sam kissed her on the cheek and released her.

"You have no idea how thankful I am that Dad rescued you that night," Sam said, his voice breathy with emotion. "I can't imagine my life without you. I think I would have missed you even if I'd never met you."

Carmen laid next to him, and he wrapped his injured arms around her. She buried her head in Sam's chest, unable to say anything in reply. Sam stroked her back and her hair, not wanting to move from this moment.

"Carmen?" He asked after a while, and after Carmen's emotions had calmed.

"Mmm?"

"I was just wondering about…about your mother."

Carmen propped herself up on her elbow and scrutinized him. "What were you wondering?" She asked.

"I just want to know what she was like. She was your mom; she was a huge part of your life…she must have been amazing. Can you tell me about her?"

Carmen's face split into the widest smile Sam had ever seen on her, and they spent all night swapping stories about the mothers they sorely missed.

* * *

**Leave some words!**


	9. Threat

**A/N: Personally, this is my favorite chapter so far. I hope you guys enjoy it. Leave me a review even if you hate it ;)**

* * *

A couple days later, after Sam had been able to rest, Carmen awoke to the buzzing of her cell phone in the early morning. Sam was still fast asleep, his whole body entangled with hers. The full nights of sleep from the past two nights had done him good; the bruising on his face and over his arms was already starting to fade and the wounds on his chest were healing. Carmen picked up her phone and flipped it open to find, not to her surprise, more coordinates.

Carmen forwarded the message to Dean. He was staying in another room, separate from Sam and Carmen, but she was sure he wasn't lonely. The previous night, she had seen him with a girl on each of his arms while entering the motel room. She assumed they provided exactly the type of company Dean craved.

The trio spent most of the day in Sam and Carmen's motel room, allowing Sam as much time to rest as possible before they got back out on the road and started the next hunt. Carmen said it was for Sam's benefit, this short break that they were taking, but it was for herself as well. Spending time alone with Sam had healed her from the draining hunt where she was forced to face her past. Although Carmen could never recover from what happened to her during her childhood, having Sam by her side made the memories bearable, and sleeping enfolded in his arms kept the nightmares at bay.

"So, how ya feeling, Sammy? Ready to get back on the road again?" Dean asked as he unpacked lunch later that day.

"I've been ready. And I've been researching the coordinates Dad sent us." Carmen looked up from her sandwich. "It's not far from here, about a five hour drive. The town's called Cooper, in Pennsylvania. Local legend says there is a real live haunted house there. The town's people won't go near it, but every once in a while the police get reports of a break in, usually kids trying to scare themselves. Never anything weird, however, last week, a young woman was found hanging from the ceiling."

"Suicide note?" Carmen asked.

"No. Worth the ride, I think."

After lunch, they were on the road heading to Pennsylvania. Carmen slept for most of the ride. Although she felt well rested from the break, it felt good to be able to sleep without nightmares, so she gorged herself on it, knowing it wouldn't last forever.

Dean woke Carmen after dark, when they had found a motel. It was no different from the last one they had stayed in. They carried in their bags and Sam grabbed his laptop.

"Carmen and I will go check out the house. Sammy, why don't you go to the library, see what you can find out about the house's history."

"Dean, I've been sitting cooped up in a motel room for over forty-eight hours."

"Yeah, so?"

"So, I don't feel like spending any more time sitting on my ass." Sam tossed his laptop at Dean's chest. "Carmen and I will go check out the house, you do the research this time."

Dean groaned. "Fine," he grumbled. "Drop me off."

* * *

Carmen and Sam arrived at the apparently haunted house. The place definitely looked haunted. It was located on the side of a mountain that gave Carmen the chills. It was bleak, clearly abandoned, and structurally unsound. It may have been the only civilization on the mountain; there was nothing else for miles. They got out of the Impala and stealthily scoped the place out. Sam shined the flashlight inside the dirty windows, but they were opaque and nothing could be seen. Carmen tried the door; it was locked but not bolted.

"Sam," she whispered. She motioned him to the door. He kicked it; it opened with a clang and then splintered apart. Carmen aimed her gun, but there was no one around.

"I'll check upstairs," Carmen whispered. "You get the basement." Sam nodded, and they split up.

Sam encountered the rusty basement door. It hung open, but he could see only darkness behind it. He opened it fully to shed what little light he could, and then descended the stairs.

The dank basement smelled dingy and molded. Jars of human remains lined the shelves; small bits of fur and hair littered the floor; he even found a fingernail lodged into the wall. A glint of silver caught his eye: it came from a small knife sitting on a table with a ruby hilt. The blade was so short that he doubted it would do much damage in a fight. The basement smelled of rotting wood and blood, although he could see no traces of red. He searched around the walls and shelves but found nothing alive.

Sam jumped when he felt something touch his leg, but it was only his phone vibrating in his pocket. It was Dean's number on the I.D.

"Hey, what'd you find out?"

"Well, I talked to the dead girls friends, and they say she was depressed. And I don't mean boyfriend break-up depressed, I mean really, clinically depressed. She was taking medication, but it looks like she stopped towards the last few weeks. I think she killed herself, Sammy. It's a sad story, but it doesn't look like anything supernatural was going on there."

"What about with the history of the house? Anything off beat?"

"Nothing. It was built in the early 19th century, so of course it's going to be creepy and decaying, and no strange deaths have ever taken place there. I don't think this is a supernatural gig, Sam."

"Then what was Dad's purpose in sending us here? You think he just made a mistake?"

"It's possible."

"You sure man? Because this place is really creepy." Sam picked up one of the jars and examined a floating eyeball.

"Yeah, well some of those kids who broke in must have fixed it up that way. I'm pretty sure about this one."

Sam groaned. "Alright, I'll grab Carmen and meet you back at the room." Sam flipped the phone shut.

He turned to ascend the stairs, but a noise made him suddenly turn and aim his gun into a dark corner. He grabbed his flashlight and illuminated the space; Carmen was standing with her back to him and her arms across her chest. He lowered his weapon.

"Jesus, C, you scared me."

"Hello, Sam," she said ominously. She turned, and her eyes were a glistening, terrifying yellow.

And suddenly, Sam remembered those eyes. He flashed back to when he was a baby, to the night his mother was killed. He was in his crib, the music from his radio lulling him to sleep. Then he saw those giant, yellow, bulbous eyes over his head. The Demon took out a knife and sliced the flesh on its own wrist. The blood ran red, Sam remembered it, and he remembered the taste as The Demon squeezed the blood into his mouth.

"You!" He exclaimed. He aimed his gun between Carmen's eyes.

"Ah, ah! You don't want to hurt your little girlfriend." The demon taunted.

"Get out of her." Sam said.

"Why would I want to do that?" The demon asked with a mocking tone. "It's so soft, and warm inside her body...but you already know that, don't you Sammy?" It cackled.

"What do you want with her?" The anger in his face and his voice was evident.

"Oh, I don't want anything with her. It's you that I want, Sam. Everything that is happening here revolves around you." Sam scrutinized the bright yellow eyes.

"Why do you want me dead so badly, huh?" Sam screeched.

"Oh, I don't want you dead! I want you strong. I just came to have a little chat, Sam. I think it's important that you know what I have planned for you. You see, you're special. These visions you've been having? They're courtesy of the power I gave you."

"You mean when you spilled demon blood in me?" He bellowed.

"A little gratitude would be appreciated! I made you strong. In return, I'm going to need you to do something for me."

"I'm not doing anything for you." Sam spat.

"Sammy, Sammy, Sammy. I am aware that you think you can resist. But you can't. I am going to take everything from you, Sam. I'm going to kill everyone you've ever loved, until you have nothing left, until you are so broken that you'll have no other choice but to fulfill your destiny."

"Which is what, to turn evil? What is one more evil demon going to do for you, how will that help you?"

"Your destiny isn't just to turn evil, Sam. Your destiny is to lead evil in the war against humanity. But you can't do that if you're tied down to all these people who love you. And little Carmen here? I'm going to make sure she's the next to be slaughtered. I already got mommy and pretty little Jess out of the way. Dean, and John, and Bobby are all on the list as well."

"Don't you dare hurt them," Sam warned through gritted teeth.

"Or what? You'll kill me? Let's see if you can." The bright yellow color disappeared from Carmen's eyes and her body fell to the ground, temporarily uninhabited. Sam raced over to her, but she was up again before he could help her.

"Sam." She stared at his worried face. "Sam, it's in me, the demon's still inside me. You have to kill it!"

Sam was shocked. "What? No, Carmen, I'm not-

"Sam, you have to shoot me! Come on, we have to kill it! Do it!" She grabbed the barrel of the gun and put it to her forehead. "Sam, pull the trigger!"

"No!"

"Sam!"

The intense light in her eyes suddenly went out and her body was on the floor again.

"Carmen!" He knelt next to her and put his hand to her heart. But before he knew what was happening, an invisible force threw him up against the wall, where he was pinned and immobile. The demon stood up and faced him.

"Oh, Sam. I knew you wouldn't hurt her. She's just too precious, and you're just too predictable." It came so close to Sam's face that he could smell Carmen's flowery perfume. "But you should have killed her."

With Sam unable to move, the demon slowly grabbed the blade with the ruby hilt. It flashed Carmen's perfect white teeth in a taunting smile before thrusting the blade into her side.

"NO!" Sam shouted. Then the demon left her body and she was back.

Carmen held her side where the blade stuck out with shock on her face. Sam was released from the invisible chains holding him back and he rushed to her side. She ripped the blade out of her torso and fell to her knees.

"Carmen!"

"Sam, I'm fine. Shut up," she barked, gritting her teeth from the pain. She was breathing heavily and a pool of blood was forming on the floor. "The Demon didn't hit anything vital."

"We have to stop the bleeding. I've got to get you to Dean." He lifted her off the ground and carried her to the Impala.

"Shit, Dean's going to kill me for bleeding all over his seats." Carmen panted as Sam gently set her down in the Impala. Her face was becoming pale and sweaty.

"Here, hold this against the wound." Sam pulled a cloth from the backseat and gave it to Carmen.

"Thanks," she winced.

* * *

Sam was cloaked by the darkness as he carried Carmen back to the motel room.

"Dean!" he called. Dean jumped up from his seat as the motel room door slammed shut behind Sam.

"What happened?" He exclaimed as he took in Carmen's bloody figure in Sam's arms.

"Sam got me stabbed." She joked as her head lulled into Sam's chest.

"The demon was possessing her." Sam corrected as he laid her on the bed. "It made her stab herself."

"He was in her? You had it in your sights; why didn't you take it out?" Dean said.

"Because he's a bitch." Carmen replied weakly.

"Because I wasn't going to kill you, Carmen!" Sam shot angrily.

"Alright, alright!" Dean yelled over Sam. "Carmen, take your shirt off."

"Dean, this isn't the best time to be hitting on me." She removed her shirt with Sam's assistance.

Dean ignored her and examined the wound. "Sam, get my duffel."

"Am I going to live, Doctor?" Carmen asked.

"Not if you keep talking like a smart ass." He looked at her and smiled warmly, but with worry in his eyes.

"Dean, just patch her up." Sam ordered. Dean cleaned the gash, which hurt like hell, but Carmen knew it was nothing compared to what was coming.

"Sam," Dean gave Sam a look that Carmen couldn't see, and Sam knelt beside her.

"Just hold still, alright?" Sam looked into her eyes with remorse. He held one strong arm over her chest to prevent her from moving, and Dean pierced her with the needle.

"AH! Son of a bitch!" Carmen interlocked her fingers with Sam's and squeezed; it only helped a little.

After Dean was finished, Carmen was no longer bleeding. A throbbing pain in her side was the only thing that persisted.

"You okay?" Sam asked when Dean was finished. She nodded weakly.

"Here, take these, they'll help with the pain." Dean tossed her a prescription bottle. "Sam, you ready?" He asked. Sam nodded, but looked sadly back at Carmen. He didn't want to leave her there alone, but they had to search for The Demon. They had never been this close before, and Sam wanted it dead now more than ever.

"And, what, I'm just supposed to lay here?" Carmen said incredulously.

"That's exactly what you're supposed to do." Dean said firmly. He reminded her, for just one second, of John.

"But that blade barely even did any damage, I'm fi-"

"You're staying here." Dean cut her off. "I don't want you walking around; don't even get up until Sam and I get back, you hear? You don't want to be pulling those stitches out; I'll have to torture you all over again." Carmen looked as if she might argue, but changed her mind and just nodded.

* * *

Sam returned without Dean at three in the morning. After they had battled The Demon, Sam knew the trail was cold, and he wanted to get back to check on Carmen. But Dean wasn't ready to give up. He stayed and tried to track it. Sam quietly unlocked the motel room door and placed his bag on the chair. His shirt was ripped in several places and his cheek was throbbing and bloody; he could feel a bruise forming where The Demon had struck him.

He thought about what The Demon had said to him today. It threatened every person that meant everything to him. It didn't even give him an ultimatum. It was a straight threat. Should he tell Dean and Carmen? What would they think, what would they say if they knew The Demon was planning to turn him evil? This thing needed to be killed.

Sam glanced over at Carmen; she was sleeping in the exact spot where they had left her hours before. He could see the rise and fall of her chest underneath the pistol she was clutching to it. He recognized it as the one she usually kept under her pillow. He carefully lifted her hand and removed the gun from her grasp.

He stared at her peaceful face for a moment before going into the bathroom. Without turning on the light, he examined himself in the mirror. How could they let The Demon escape? It was there, in their grasp, and they let it get away. Dean would say that it was for a second time that night, but Sam knew that if Dean were put in his position, he couldn't have hurt Carmen either.

To escape from his reflection, and because his body and mind were in pain, Sam knelt down below the sink, resting his head against the cool tile. When he stood up, he saw Carmen looming in the doorway, watching him. She understood that the night had not been successful. Without a word, she slipped between Sam and the counter. She looked up into his eyes, and placed her hands on either side of his face. She gently moved his head so the purple bruise caught the moonlight. She examined the injury, then raked her eyes over his bloody, mutilated shirt, gently running her fingers over the places that were cut. She glanced up at his face – he was watching her intently. She lifted his shirt up over his head for a closer examination of his wounds.

They didn't look too bad. Carmen took the peroxide from the counter and a clean cloth and cleaned the cut on his chest, then the one on his hip. He did not make a sound, nor did his face betray any pain. She took a rag, drenched it in cold water, and took it to the bloody bruise on his face. All the while Sam watched her.

To clean the cuts on his neck, Carmen stood with her arm around him and her body pressed against his. She slowly stroked the wet rag from behind his ear down to his collarbone, pausing with the rag resting on his chest. She could feel his eyes on her, and he unconsciously turned his face down towards hers. She looked up at him, and slowly, so very slowly, he closed the gap between them and his lips found hers. The kiss was sweet and unsure at first, but then they both became dangerously passionate.

Carmen's lips were soft and they held their own as Sam pressed his against them. Putting both hands around her waist, he lifted her up onto the counter so she wouldn't have to reach up to his lips. She wrapped her legs around his waist, and he kissed her even more eagerly. He removed her t-shirt and his lips grazed her body and then came back up to her mouth.

Sam lifted Carmen from her seat on the counter and strongly carried her to the bed. He was on top of her in an instant. His hands were all over her – in her hair; on her body; behind her back; tracing her lips. Then she was on top of him. He didn't expect her to be so sexy; the innocent, tentative lover he knew before was now all grown up and making him feel things that he never had before.

The dark night passed in a rush of passion and sensation until it was light.

* * *

The next morning was dreary as rain poured down outside the motel window. Dean came back into the room and found Sam and Carmen lying in bed together, and he guessed at what had gone down the night before. They were both still asleep. He silently chuckled to himself at finally finding them together. He picked up a tin bowl off the motel table and dropped it to the floor with a loud clang.

"Shit!" Sam exclaimed, bleary eyed, aiming a gun at Dean. "DEAN! What the hell are you doing!"

"Being an immature ass, as usual." Carmen sighed as she laid her head back down, covering her exposed body with the sheet.

"Well, look at you two." Dean chuckled again. "This has been marinating for a long time. A _long_ time. Ha! I can't believe it!"

"Leave, Dean." Carmen ordered, but she gave Sam a sly glance.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm going. But we're leaving in less than an hour so get your nude asses out of bed and dressed. I'm so done with this town." He left, grumbling.

Sam sighed. He kissed Carmen on the forehead. "I'm going to get in the shower."

"Want some company?" Carmen flashed him a smile. He chuckled and went into the bathroom. She watched him go. But before he could start the shower running, his face reappeared from behind the door.

"I wanted to ask you…" He grinned. "When did you get that tattoo?"

Carmen laughed loudly. "Dean and I got rid of a poltergeist that was tormenting a tattoo parlor. The owner was so grateful, he said we could get anything we wanted for free so…"

Sam just laughed as he disappeared into the bathroom.

But when Carmen got up to follow him, she nearly fell right back down on the bed. Vertigo overcame her and she wobbled on her feet. Her vision blurred, so she laid back down.

"What happened?" Sam asked Carmen after he got out of the bathroom. She was still laying down.

"Sorry. I just feel a little weird."

"Oh. Well, I guess it's normal to feel awkward, but-"

"Sam, no, not about that." She chortled. "I mean physically. I feel…weak and dizzy. I had to lie down."

"You've been taking those pain meds?" He asked her.

"Yeah, I took two a little while ago."

"Well they're going to make your mind a little fuzzy. Those, combined with a bad nights sleep-"

"I slept fine," she said with a wicked smile.

He grinned. "Fine, a short night's sleep then. I'm not surprised you're feeling this way. You can sleep in the car though." He kissed her on the forehead, dropped his towel, and started dressing.

* * *

An hour later, they were packed and in the Impala. Dean still had a smug look on his face as they drove away from the motel. Conversation passed between Sam and Dean, but all the while, Carmen was silent in the back seat. Something didn't feel right. At first she leaned her head against the cool window, but eventually she was lying down with her head on the leather. Every once in a while, Sam would reach back and put a hand on her leg, or glance back to give her a wink.

They hadn't made it far out of town before Carmen realized that something was seriously wrong with her. She couldn't hide it any longer. She tuned in to the brothers' conversation.

"Well how the hell did The Demon find you, Sam, how did it even know what state we were in?"

"I don't know, Dean, maybe he can track us somehow!"

"Sam," Carmen whispered weakly.

"How the hell could he be tracking you? Did you check yourself, make sure you're not bugged?"

"Dean, he's a demon, he's not going to put some technological tracking device on me!"

"Sam," she whispered again.

"So then what? How the hell did he find you? We can't let this happen again."

"Sam," Carmen said with as much force as she could muster.

"What!" He yelled at her, heated from arguing with Dean.

She didn't answer, or rather, couldn't answer. When she was silent, Sam glanced back at her. The state she was in made him do a double take.

"Carmen?" He exclaimed. All traces of anger in his voice were replaced by distress.

Dean read the worry in Sam's voice and hastily glanced back at Carmen. "Oh, my God." He whispered. Her face was almost pure white, and her veins stood out blue against her papery skin. Sweat dewed up over her face, and her lips were just as pale and white as her skin. Hollow circles had appeared under her eyes, making her look distinctly grave. The way she looked shot terror through Sam's chest.

"Dean, pull over." Sam said, and Dean obeyed. Sam jumped out of the car and opened the back door. Placing his hands on either side of her face, he discovered the cold. "She's freezing."

"Why, what happened?" Dean asked frantically.

"I don't know!" Sam examined the delirious Carmen. He lifted her shirt and found that her stab wound was infected. "Dean, look at this." The stiches had disappeared altogether, blood was oozing from the wound, and the skin around it was red and scabbed. "What's happening to her?"

Dean shook his head. They were in the middle of nowhere, on a deserted road out of town, with no knowledge of what was happening to her. All Dean knew was that she was in bad shape. He could see her becoming paler and weaker by the second. He jumped out of the Impala, whipped out his phone and called the only person he could think of.

"Bobby? Bobby, I need your help."

"Carmen," Sam whispered as he tried to get her to see straight. His throat clogged up with emotion, and his eyes stung with tears. "Carmen, listen, you have to look at me." Her eyes focused for a moment on his face. "You have to stay with me, okay? Dean's getting you help."

"Yeah," she breathed. Her whole body was shaking. Sam removed his jacket and placed it over her like a blanket.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Sam asked.

"I thought it would stop. I'm sorry." She closed her eyes, but Sam forced her to open them again.

"It's the blade." Dean exclaimed. "It's the blade, it was poisoned. We have to go back."

"We don't have time. Dean, we won't make it in time!" Sam's heart raced; he couldn't lose Carmen now, not like this. He looked down at her, and she was lucid. She knew she was in danger.

"Get in the car, NOW!" Dean ordered. It was obvious that Sam couldn't think clearly. He got in the backseat with Carmen, who laid her head upon his lap. She was still shivering, so Sam held her close, trying to warm every part of her with his hands.

"Keep her awake, Sammy." Dean reached back to feel Carmen's skin. "Carmen, stay with us, alright? Where are we?"

"Pennsylvania," she muttered.

"Good. Why are we here?"

"Hunt," she breathed.

"Sam, keep talking to her. Don't let her slip away, come on Sam." He coaxed.

"Carmen, talk to me. Think about your mother. Tell me about her."

Carmen sighed and closed her eyes. "She wanted me to be happy," her voice trembled harder than her body. She looked up at Sam. "She wanted me to f-fall in love. She said it was the most important thing. That there's no-nothing like it." Carmen let out a shaky laugh. "She was right."

Sam did his best to hold back his tears, but it was useless. He bent over Carmen, gathered her up in his arms and rocked her like a helpless child.

After a moment of quiet, Dean sped the car up to as fast as he could push it. He was terrified, but he knew he had to keep a clear head. Sam certainly couldn't. He had to find the knife, and do what was necessary. He just hoped it worked.

Horror shot through Sam as he felt Carmen suddenly fall limp in his arms. He looked down at her, panicked. "Carmen? No, Carmen wake up, come on, don't do this to me now, we're close, we're so close!" But she didn't wake up this time. "Dean!" Sam cried.

Dean ran the Impala as close to the building as possible and jumped out. He charged inside, not even drawing his gun. He had a one-track mind – get the knife. He took the basement steps two at a time, and his eyes caught the glint of the ruby hilt. He grabbed it and bolted upstairs and out to the car. He was out of breath and scared, terrified. "Move, Sam!" He exclaimed, and Sam stumbled out of the way. Dean did exactly as Bobby had told him – he jammed the blade into the exact spot that the demon had stabbed her before. He stood back and waited, panting, next to a distraught Sam.

For a moment nothing happened, and Dean's heart sank. He was too late to save her, he thought. He dragged a rigid hand over his face and turned his back. This wasn't happening. His mind could not process this…

But then he heard her draw a long breath, and when he turned around, he saw the color return to her face. The blue veins that were prominent before were hidden again below the surface of her skin, and the yellow of her eyes became white once more. Next to Dean, Sam let out a long sigh of relief.

Carmen sat up, and her hands grabbed the hilt of the blade that protruded from her waist. A confused look crossed her features.

"Why am I removing this thing from my side a second time?" She winced as she dislodged the blade again. Sam swiped the tears away from his eyes, dropped to his knees next to her, pulled her towards him and kissed her until her lips were blue.

"Oh, I should get stabbed more often." She said as she put her arms around him.

"No, you shouldn't." Dean's stressed voice came from over Sam's shoulder. "Come on, we've got somewhere to be."

"We do?" Sam asked.

"Yeah. Just get in the car, I'll explain on the way."

* * *

Dean had packed the ruby hilted blade in the trunk for safekeeping. There was no way to destroy a powerful item such as that, but they could make sure it would never be found, and could never hurt anyone again. Bobby had wanted him to keep it, and not just leave it in Pennsylvania where anyone or anything could stumble upon it.

Sam sat in the backseat of the Impala with Carmen for the duration of the ride. After Dean patched her up (again) they were on the road. Bobby told Dean on the phone earlier that he needed them in Iowa. He said that after they got Carmen right again, they should get on the road ASAP.

Bobby had given them an address to go to, which turned out to be an old abandoned cabin in the middle of the woods. It was so far out of the way that Dean had trouble finding it. The drive took them nearly an entire day, and Dean was exhausted by the time they got there. There was a faint light that illuminated the windows, so Dean was cautious when he opened the door.

The man sitting at the shabby table in the far side of the room looked up, and all three of their jaws dropped.

Dean was the first to find his voice. "Dad?"


	10. The Beginning

**A/N: We're getting towards the end here with this story line...do you guys like Carmen? Should I keep using her? Tell me what you think!**

* * *

"Hey Dean, Sam, Carmen," John nodded to each of them. "How've you three been?"

"Bobby sent us," Dean said, still slack jawed.

"That's because I asked him to. Sam, I promised you that when the time came, I'd allow you to be a part of this fight. Well, I have a lead on it."

"The Demon?" Sam eyes went wide. "You know where it is?"

"I know where it's going to be."

"And the colt? You found it?"

"I found it, Sam." Sam looked astonished, a fire burning behind his eyes. "But we need to start from the beginning." John motioned for them to come in; they set their bags down. Carmen and Dean traded looks at the door, but followed Sam through it.

"How's my girl," John said aside to Carmen as he looked fondly down at her.

She smiled back. "It's been a hell of a week, John."

"So exactly like every other week?" John smirked.

Carmen laughed and John caught her in a bear hug.

"Dad, what is all this?" Sam asked reverently. He was gazing at the wall behind the desk that John had covered in maps and string that weaved in and out of each other and articles cut from newspapers. It reminded Carmen of the abandoned motel room they found when they first began their journey to look for John. Sam got as close as he could to the wall of maps, then stepped away and admired it from a distance.

"It's everything I know. Boys, our whole lives have been about finding this demon. But I couldn't find a trace of it, nothing…until about a year ago. It's the first time it reappeared since Lawrence."

"That's when you took off," Dean observed.

John nodded. "I knew it was going to be a dangerous job, tracking this thing, hunting it down. I couldn't take the two of you with me," John nodded to Carmen and Dean, "because I didn't want you in the line of fire."

Carmen and Dean traded looks once again. "Alright, so what's the trail you found?" Dean asked, motioning to the map wall. Sam inconspicuously walked to the other side of the room. Carmen guessed he wanted to get away from all the newspaper clippings documenting the violent deaths caused by The Demon. She assumed he saw his mother and Jess in every one of those women.

"It's been hard to determine, but there are things to look for. All over the country, houses burned to the ground…it's going after families. Just like it came after ours."

"Families with infants?" Sam chimed in from his corner of the room.

John nodded. "The night of the kid's six month birthday."

Sam looked surprised. "Was I six months old when…that night?"

"Exactly six months."

Carmen saw Sam's jaw twitch at this. "So basically The Demon is going after these kids for some reason."

"But why's it doing it?" Dean asked forcefully. "What does it want with these kids?"

"I wish I knew," John answered. "But I've always been one step behind it. I've never been able to save…" He trailed off, and looked down at the floor with guilt.

Sam looked up uncomfortably. He knew part of the demon's plan, but what would John and Dean say if they knew he had demon blood inside of him? What would Carmen think? He was afraid she would have the same reaction as she did when he told her he had visions…

"Alright so how do we find it?" Dean pressed on. "You said you found a pattern."

"There are signs we can look for, omens. In the days before every one of these fires, there have been cattle deaths, electrical storms, temperature fluctuations…and then I went back and checked, and…"

"These things happened in Lawrence." Dean whispered.

With a nod, John said, "and in Palo Alto before Jessica." Carmen looked up at Sam and read the pain in his face. "And these signs are starting again, right here in Salvation."

* * *

Carmen could only imagine what Sam and Dean were feeling. Carmen could see that Sam was angry; since Jess, all his focus has been on killing this Demon. It had taken so much away from him – it destroyed his family, it took away his mother, and it started him in this life of hunting that he had struggled with for so long. He had had a one-track mind since The Demon had almost taken Carmen from him as well in Pennsylvania.

Dean, however, was surprising Carmen altogether. He seemed, not unlike herself, apprehensive about this hunt. Carmen felt that all three of her family members had a blind spot when it came to this demon, and that they would stop at nothing to waste it. Carmen was too afraid of the price that might have to be paid. She could see that maybe Dean felt the same way she did.

John had gotten a suspicious and tragic call earlier that day. A pastor that he knew very well had been killed during the night. His throat had been slit, and they thought that it could have been The Demon's way of threatening them. That's when John got tough. He ordered the boys and Carmen to find every child who was turning six months in the next week. Dean had gone to the local library, while Sam and Carmen looked through the birth certificates at the hospital.

"Here you go, officers," the nurse said as she laid down the folder of the birth records from the last six months.

"There are going to be dozens of children from this town, Sam. How are we going to stake out all these places? There's no way to know where the son of a bitch will strike."

"We'll figure it out. I can't let this thing destroy any more families, C. I won't." Sam buried himself in his work as Carmen watched him worriedly.

When they had their list of twenty-one children, they headed out. As Dean had the Impala, they had a few miles to walk back to the motel. All the while, Carmen kept an eye on Sam. He worried her even more when he closed his eyes and started pressing on his temples.

"Sam, what's wrong?"

"I don't know. AH!" He crouched down on the sidewalk and put his head between his hands. "Something's happening…my head…AHH!"

* * *

"Visions?" John said incredulously? "Visions? Why didn't you tell me about this?" The rebuke was aimed at Dean, not Sam. "Something like this starts happening to your brother, you pick up the phone and you call me!"

"Call you? Are you kidding me?" Dean threw up his hands. "I called you when Carmen was in trouble, I called you when we practically had The Demon in our hands!"

"Dean," Carmen tried to calm him.

"No, Carmen!" He pushed her hand off of his shoulder. "Getting him on the phone? I've got a better chance of winning the lottery! He sends us on these hunts, these wild goose chases with these stupid, military style coordinates, and-"

"What?" John interrupted. "Dean, I never sent you coordinates."

"Yes, you have. We've been getting texts from an unknown number telling us where to go for hunts…"

"That wasn't me. Let me see." John looked nervous, which Carmen knew was never a good sign.

"If you weren't sending us these…" Carmen trialed off, afraid of knowing the answer to her own unspoken question.

"It was him." Sam said in a low voice from his corner. "It was The Demon."

"What? Sam, how do you know that?" Dean advanced on him.

"I just do."

"That's not good enough!"

"Dean, that's enough!" John broke up the brother's fight before it could get too heated. "Sam, look, whatever you know, now's the time to tell us. We need all the information we can get on this thing."

Sam shook his head and turned away, looking towards the window. He shot a sideways glance at Carmen, who gave a small nod. "Back in Cooper, when the demon attacked Carmen…Before it took the knife to her it…it talked to me."

"What do you mean 'it talked to you'? What, did you guys sit down and have a tea party?"

"Dean, shut up." Carmen shot, without taking her eyes off Sam.

"It was possessing you." Sam said to Carmen. "It was speaking to me through you. But it's eyes, they weren't black like normal. They were yellow. And it showed me things about my past.

"The night that thing took mom…We never really knew why it was there, why it was in my nursery. It was because of me. That night, The Demon came in to my room and did something to me; he fed me something."

"What was it?" Dean asked.

"I don't know," Sam lied. "But it can't have been anything good. And I think it's doing the same thing to these kids now. We have to stop it. We know The Demon's coming tonight, alright, I saw it in my vision, and it's the baby's six month birthday. If we don't stop it, this family's going to go through the same hell we went through."

"No, they won't. No will, ever again. We're ending this." John promised.

"I still don't see how that proves that The Demon has been sending us on these hunts." Dean pointed out.

"That night in Cooper, it also told me something else." Sam hesitated, trying to find the right words.

"Spit it out, Sam." Dean ordered.

"It told me that it was going to kill Carmen. It said it wanted you out of the way. I'm sorry." A stab of fear shot through Carmen, but she didn't let it show on her face. "Remember that demon, Jenna, remember how we saw her contacting someone? Remember what she said about you?"

"She said I was negligible."

"Exactly. I think it was The Demon she was calling. And think about every hunt we've been sent on! They've all been aimed at hurting you. First in Boone, where there was a demon attacking girls Carmen's age. Then it sent us to Jenna, who tried to kill all four of us."

"Bobby sent us on that hunt," Dean corrected.

"It was killing families, though, Dean. That's our one weak spot. I think Bobby just got to us first; if he hadn't sent us there, we would have gotten a text soon after. But we killed her, so the demon sends us to Medford. Carmen's hometown! And she barely got out in one piece.

"But you were too strong, C. So The Demon had to make its own appearance. He lured us to Cooper, where there wasn't even a hunt, and tired to kill her himself."

They were all very quiet. Carmen wrapped her arms around her own stomach. So all these hunts, everything that had happened to them since they began to look for John, all the fights and the death scares…It had been because The Demon wanted her dead? She suddenly felt very sick.

"I should have seen it," Dean dragged his hand over his face. "Carmen, I'm sorry, I should have seen this. I thought I was following Dad's orders, I though he was guiding us…"

"You think I would have led you to hunts that were especially dangerous for her?" John asked. He narrowed his eyes at Dean. "How could you believe that?"

"I didn't know, I'm sorry!" Dean pleaded. John looked as if he was going to retort, but just then, his phone rang. He shot Dean a disappointed look before turning away and flipping his phone open.

"It wasn't your fault, Dean." Carmen soothed. She knew he felt responsible for both her and Sam because he was oldest, and she could see the angst on his face. "It wasn't any of our faults. This thing has been jerking us around for long enough. It's manipulated us too many times! We can pass around blame, we can blame ourselves and feel sorry, or we can fight it! We can bring it down, tonight, and free ourselves from this hell."

"That was Caleb." John said with anxiety in his voice. "He's in Lincoln, surrounded by demons. They want the colt, and they know we have it." He grabbed his jacket and duffel bag.

"Dad, you can't just go! We have this thing in our sights, and we need the colt to destroy it!" Sam said with passion.

"You're going to destroy it, tonight, like Carmen said." He took out an antique gun, which looked similar to the colt in its build, and held it up.

"No." Dean said. "You can't give them a fake, they'll know!"

"It's the only option. I can't desert Caleb; he's in this situation because of me. You three stay here, and take this thing down for good." And then he was out the door, leaving all three of them stunned and scared.

* * *

There was nothing left to do but follow John's order.

It was after dark, and Dean, Sam, and Carmen sat in the Impala outside of the targeted home. They could see the couple inside, first at the dinner table chatting merrily, then playing with their infant baby. Finally, the trio watched them close the blinds and retreat to their respective rooms.

"What should we tell them to get them out of there?" Sam asked cautiously.

"Gas leak?" Carmen offered.

"When does that ever work?" Dean pointed out, loading his gun. "We have one game plan available here; we wait for this thing to arrive, and we take it down."

Sam sighed. "I wonder how Dad's doing."

"He'll be fine," Dean said shortly.

"I would feel a lot better if we were there backing him up." Carmen said.

"I would feel a lot better if he were here backing us up," Dean returned.

"Listen, Dean," Sam started. "I just want you to know…I know Dad likes to pin blame, but this whole situation, it's not any of our faults, especially yours. And I gotta say thanks, to both of you," he turned to look at Carmen, "for always being there for me. You know, when I felt like I couldn't count on anyone else, I could always count on you two. I just want you to know…Just in case."

"Come on, Sam, I don't want to hear this speech from you! I'm not allowing this 'just in case' bullshit. No one's dying tonight, alright, not us, and not that family. Just this demon."

Carmen scrutinized the brothers. It was almost like they had switched places. On one hand there was Sam, who used to be so cautious, so resistant to hunting. He wanted himself and his family safe and out of harms way. But now he was willing to sacrifice his life to stop this demon. Then there was Dean, who Carmen had always looked up to for his bravery and fearlessness. He could run into the middle of any fight and come out victorious. But now he was terrified for his family; she could tell simply by looking into his eyes.

And then there was Carmen, the observer, the mediator…the one who was negligible.

Sam nodded to his brother and turned his eyes toward the house. He sighed, and his breath was visible in front of him. A sudden chill caught Carmen as a gust of wind blew the leaves through the now crisp air. The lights flickered throughout the house, and the radio emitted static.

"GO!" Dean exclaimed, and they all bolted towards the house and burst through the door. The house was stunningly dark and quiet. "Sam, get the baby, Carmen and I will-"

But he was cut short by a killer right hook colliding with his jaw. It was the father of the baby, thinking he was protecting his family.

"Get out of my house!" He bellowed, coming after Carmen. But Dean swiftly got up and knocked him out, throwing his limp body over his back.

"Rosie?" They heard a woman call from upstairs.

"NO! Don't go into the nursery!" Sam shouted, and bolted up the stairs with Carmen hot on his heals.

"Go, Dean, I've got him!" Carmen yelled down to Dean as they ascended the stairs. It was chaos. By the time they reached the nursery, Rosie's mother was already on the ceiling, just as Jess had been.

And there it was, The Demon, standing over baby Rosie's bed with a knife. All Sam could see was a silhouette. It turned around and fixed them with its terrifying gaze. Sam raised the colt, but The Demon was too quick – it disappeared into thin air just as Sam pulled the trigger.

The moment it disappeared, the baby's mother, who Carmen deduced was called Monica because of her husband's constant screaming, fell from the ceiling. Sam rushed to break her fall, and Carmen snatched baby Rosie from her crib just in time to rescue her from the flames erupting around her.

"Go, Carmen! Let's go!" Sam bellowed as he carried Monica down the stairs and out the door. Out front, they were greeted with hostility by the nameless husband who was being restrained by Dean.

"No, it's okay, they saved us!" Monica said, taking her child from Carmen's arms and placating her husband. "They saved us."

The window of Rosie's nursery was filled with flames. They licked the side of the house ominously, lighting the night. Inside, the dark figure of a man could be seen standing amidst the flames.

"It's still in there!" Sam bellowed, and he charged back toward the house, But Dean and Carmen ran in front of him. It took both their efforts to restrain him.

"Sam, no, it's suicide!" Carmen yelled, shoving herself against his chest.

"I don't care! Let me go, I don't care!

"I do!" Dean bellowed. He shoved Sam backwards, and finally, he calmed down.

Carmen looked up at the window and watched The Demon flash a menacing smile, and then fade into the flames.

* * *

"Damn!" Dean exclaimed, chucking his phone on the bed. "Dad should have called by now." He paced the floor, going from Carmen's side of the room to Sam's. Carmen was sitting against the window ledge, pretending to flip through John's journal but actually trying to keep an eye on Sam. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees, head in hands, staring at the floor.

"You should have let me go," Sam said, his voice harsh. "I could have ended this."

"What?" Carmen narrowed her eyes and rose from her perch. "Sam, are you kidding me? The only thing you would have ended was your life! You would have died, don't you get it?"

"I don't care!"

"You know what Sam? You and Dad are a lot more alike than I thought." Dean said, coming to stand next to Carmen. "You're both just so willing to die killing this demon, and you know what? It's selfish."

"Selfish?"

"Yes, Sam!" Carmen bellowed. "Because we're going to have to be the one's to bury you. If killing this demon means you getting yourself killed, then I hope we never find it!"

"This thing killed Mom! This thing killed Jess!"

"Sam, killing this thing isn't going to bring them back." Dean said. "They're gone."

Fury exploded in Sam's eyes as he grabbed Dean by the collar and threw him up against the wall.

"Sam!" Carmen exclaimed.

"Don't you dare say that to me! Not you! Not when you were the one who came and got me at school and dragged me back into this!"

"I'm sorry, Sam. I just can't lose you. The three of us, and Dad, that's all I have. I can't…"

Sam heaved a breath, and coming to his senses, he let Dean go. "Dad," he whispered. "He should have called by now. Something must have gone wrong."

Just then, Dean's phone buzzed. He flipped it open and checked the text. A dark look took over his features. "No," he whispered. He passed the phone to Carmen.

**I have your father. Come with the colt if you ever want to see him again.**


	11. The End

**A/N: This chapter is one of my favorites. I really enjoyed writing it. Let me know what you think!**

* * *

Dean sped down the road to Lincoln, determination and fear in his eyes. He whipped the Impala around a turn, almost sped out and fishtailed back on track without blinking. Carmen had never seen him so filled with fervor.

"Dean, what if it's a trap, what if they don't have John at all and they're just trying to lure us to them!" Carmen spoke quickly, trying to reason with him.

"It was a text from Dad's phone. They have him, and even if it was a trap it wouldn't matter." Dean kept his eyes on the road, not even glancing towards her.

"They want the colt, that's why they want us to come!" Sam exclaimed, exasperated. "We can not bring that gun, Dean, we have to keep it away from them, we need it!"

"Not as much as we need Dad, alive! That thing is our only bargaining chip for his life!"

"It's the only thing that can kill The Demon! Dad would want us to keep it safe!"

"I don't care!" Dean yelled heatedly.

Sam argued with Dean until they got to Lincoln, which took them most of the night. A faint dawn light illuminated the quiet town as they drove in and screeched to a halt in Caleb's driveway. Dean slammed the car door and cocked his gun as he fearlessly invaded the house. Carmen and Sam weren't far behind him. The colt was locked safely in the demon-proofed trunk…for now.

Sam picked the lock and Caleb's front door swung open. The whole house was in disarray. Sam went up the stairs, and Dean and Carmen examined the first floor. Pictures were torn from the walls, tables had been flipped over, couches were overturned, but it was quiet. There were bloodstains on the floors and walls.

A quick whistle from the hallway caught Carmen's attention. Dean stood at the top of the basement stairs, following a trail of blood.

"It looks fresh," he whispered. They descended the stairs together, Dean leading Carmen. Half way down, Carmen could already see a man's body lying on the floor. It was definitely not John, but she ran to his side and knelt beside him.

But Dean grabbed her by the scruff of her shirt and pulled her back up to her feet. "He could be possessed," Dean warned. He took out his hip flask filled with holy water and cautiously flipped the body over.

It was Caleb, and he groaned with pain as Dean moved him.

"Oh, my God," Carmen knelt to try and sooth him. He was bleeding and could barely move. His leg was twisted at an awfully wrong angle.

"Dean, they attacked…" He croaked.

"It's okay," Carmen soothed. "We know, just try not to move, okay? We'll get you to a hospital."

"Where did they take our father?" Dean asked intently.

"Dean!" Carmen scolded, appalled.

"We need to know." Dean defended.

"Sunrise…they took him to sunrise…"

"Sunrise? What does that mean?" But Caleb was gone.

"Shit," Carmen whispered as she turned away. Caleb didn't deserve this. Sam came bounding down the stairs, and he took in the scene.

"Is he...?" He asked. Carmen nodded.

"We've got to find Dad," Dean said, "before they do this to him, too."

"We can't just leave him here like this," Sam motioned to Caleb's body.

"He's gone, Sam, and we don't have time! We have to figure out what he meant by sunrise."

"Sunrise?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, why, does that mean something to you?"

"I found this," Sam took a book of matches out of his pocket, "upstairs. It's from sunrise apartment buildings. That must be where they took Dad."

"Who knows if he's even still there," Carmen said.

"Let's hope he is."

* * *

Dean pulled into the parking lot of Sunrise apartment buildings. It was bustling with people even in the early morning. It was cheery and certainly didn't look like a place that a demon would choose for its lair.

"We need to search the place." Dean said.

"We're never going to be able to search with all those people around."

"It's okay, I think I have a plan. Wait here," Dean got out of the car and ran into the lobby.

Carmen and Sam waited, and then all of a sudden, a blaring of a fire alarm went off inside the building. It rang through the parking lot, and Carmen saw Dean slip out the side door and return to the car.

"That'll get everybody out."

"Yeah, but Dean, the city's going to respond in, what, seven minuets?"

"It's all part of the plan, Sammy."

The city did respond. As dozens of people filed out of the building, a dozen firemen charged in to examine it. Dean, Sam and Carmen snuck out of the Impala and slunk behind one of the fire trucks. There were two firemen's outfits, complete with helmets, lodged into a compartment in the back of the truck, but there was a man blocking them.

"Carmen, go distract him."

"Why me?" She shot.

"Because he's a guy." Dean grabbed her shirt and pulled it down considerably so that her cleavage became the first thing anyone would notice when looking at her.

"I hate you," she spat.

"Just meet us around back" Dean pushed her out from behind the truck.

She rolled her eyes, but walked straight up to the fireman anyway. "Hi, excuse me," she said in what she hoped was a sultry voice.

"Can I help you?" He asked as he turned to her and, thankfully, away from the truck.

"Oh, I was just wondering what happened here? You know, I live a few streets over and heard the sirens." Out of the corner of her eye, Carmen saw Sam and Dean steal the outfits from the truck and slip away.

* * *

And now she waited in the alley behind the building, where Dean had said they would meet her. She paced the sidewalk, hoping John was okay, worrying about Sam and Dean, and wishing she was in there to help them.

Finally, Sam appeared on the fire escape of the seventh floor. "Carmen!" He called down to her. "We got him!" John appeared next to Sam on the fire escape, but it looked like he needed Dean's help to stand.

Wanting to do something to help from her post on the ground, Carmen climbed atop the dumpster against the wall and leapt to the fire escape ladder so that it opened up. She swung from it and landed on the ground agilely. It took Sam and Dean some time to get John on the ground, and all the while Carmen watched them.

She didn't notice that there was someone else in the alleyway with her.

Sam jumped down first, and then Dean helped to lower John down. He was beat up, Carmen could tell, but it looked like he just needed some rest.

Dean jumped down next to Carmen, but as soon as he got his feet on the ground, it attacked. It was a man with eyes like onyx, black as the night. It tackled Sam, slamming his face against the wall. Sam was holding John up, so when that support was gone, John fell to the ground as well, useless. Carmen and Dean lunged at the demon, but it put its hand up and threw them simultaneously back into a car windshield.

Carmen knocked her head, and her vision swam. She raised her head to see the demon was beating Sam, relentlessly punching him in the face, forcing him to the ground and digging its knee into Sam throat.

She tried to push herself up, but Carmen's head was still fuzzy. A loud BANG from close by her made her jump and cleared her head instantly. She looked to see the demon that was attacking Sam fall sideways with a bullet in his head, and Dean aiming the colt.

* * *

Carmen and Dean were able to bring Sam and John safely back to the cabin in the woods. They decided it was the best place to hide while they still had demons out scouting them. Carmen salted the doors and windows for protection. After they got John and Sam a place to rest, she drew demon traps by each entryway.

They took the day to rest. All four of them had been hurt that morning, and they tended to each other's wounds. John stayed in bed nearly all day with little convincing, which was rare for him.

"Dad's still not up yet?" Sam asked as he came back into the room with dinner after dark that night. His face was swollen and bruised from the morning, but his spirit was unbroken. They had gotten their father and the colt out safely.

"No. It's pretty unlike him to be out for the day." Dean answered.

"Guess he was pretty beat up."

"You don't think we were followed here, do you?" Carmen asked as she pulled back the curtains.

"Nah, we couldn't have found a more out of the way place to hold up," Dean said, but he looked uncomfortable.

"Hey, Dean?" Sam looked at his brother. "You, um…you saved my life back there."

"Well I guess you're glad I brought the colt, huh?"

"I'm trying to thank you."

Dean nodded. "You're welcome."

But for some reason, he looked down at the floor as he said this.

Carmen waited for Sam to leave, and then turned to Dean. She put her hand in his, and she didn't even have to ask.

"You know that guy I shot in the ally? There was a person in there."

"Dean, you know you didn't have a choice. He would have killed Sam."

"I know, that's not what bothers me. It's just, killing that guy…I didn't think twice, I didn't even flinch. The things I'm willing to do for Sam, for you, for Dad, it just…it scares me sometimes."

"It shouldn't" John said, appearing from his room. "You did good, son."

"You're not mad?" Dean looked surprised. "I risked the gun…"

"Mad? No, I'm proud of you. Sam and I, we can get pretty obsessed. But you watch out for this family. You always have."

At this, a cold gust of wind blew through the house despite the closed windows. The lights flickered, casting ominous shadows on all three of their faces.

Dean looked to John with trepidation, jumping up and putting his hand on the colt, which was holstered in his belt.

"It's coming," John announced. "Carmen, salt all the doors and windows."

"Already done," she announced, but John practically ignored her.

"Dean, give me the gun, we're only going to have one shot at this."

Dean pulled the gun from his holster, but didn't relinquish it. He stared up at his father.

"Dean, come on, what are you waiting for?" John scolded.

"He'd be furious," Dean whispered. Carmen stood behind him, watching Dean cautiously.

"What?" John bellowed.

"My dad wouldn't be proud of me for risking this gun, he'd tare me a new one." He aimed the gun at John. "You're not my dad."

"Dean, what are you talking about, it's me!"

"No, I know my dad better than anyone, and you're not him."

"What the hell's gotten into you?" John yelled again.

But Dean stayed clam. "I could ask you the same thing. Stay back."

"Dean? What's going on?" Sam entered and was bemused by the sight that met his eyes.

"Your brother's lost his mind!" John bellowed.

"He's not dad," Dean said. "I think he's possessed. I think he's been possessed since we rescued him."

"Don't listen to him, son." John pleaded.

"Dean, how do you know?" Sam asked, ignoring John.

"Because, he's…he's different."

"You know what, we don't have time for this! Sam, you want to kill this demon, you have to trust me!"

But Dean and Sam traded a look and communicated in a way only they could, and Sam slowly came to stand next to his brother and Carmen in a sign of solidarity.

Shock and pain crossed John's face, but Dean didn't put down his gun. "Fine. All of you are so sure? Then go ahead, kill me."

Carmen held her breath, trusting Dean but afraid he may be wrong. John cast his gaze sadly down at the floor. Dean dropped his hands a fraction, but it was enough.

"I thought so." It was John's voice, but it wasn't John. Before any of them could react, before Dean could pull the trigger, they all flew through the air and crashed against walls on opposite sides of the room.

Dean tried to hold on to the colt, but he couldn't. He smacked the wall and saw John pick it up where he dropped it.

When the demon looked up and stared directly at Sam, he could see that John's eyes were a terrifying, bulbous yellow.

"What a pain in the ass this thing's been." The Yellow-Eyed monster said as he examined the colt.

"It's you, isn't it," Sam said, and The Demon flashed him a sinister smile.

"Nice to see you again, Sammy." It cackled.

"I'm going to KILL YOU!" Sam bellowed.

"Oh, that'd be a neat trick. In fact," it placed the gun down on the table. "There you go. Make the gun float to you, psychic boy."

Sam looked at the gun, but try as he might, nothing happened. He had spent so much time trying to repress his power. He never thought it could save his life.

The Demon cackled again. "Yes, I thought so. You know, this is fun. I could have killed you three a hundred times today, but this…this is worth the wait." He glanced over to Dean now. "Your Dad…he's in here with me. He's trapped inside his own meat suit. He says hi, by the way. He's going to tear you apart, Dean. He's going to taste the iron in your blood!"

"Let him go." Dean spat. "Or I swear to God-"

"What? What are you and God going to do? You see, as far as I'm concerned, this is justice. You remember your little adventure with Jenna? The way you threw her from that building? That was my little girl." The Demon got close to Deans face so he could feel the heat of its breath. "And the one you shot in the alleyway? That was my boy. So you see, when I kill you and Carmen over there, I'll just be getting even. Not Sammy though. Oh, no, not Sammy." It turned away from Dean, and crossed the room to stand in front of Sam. "Because that would interfere with my plans for you, right, Sammy? And we can't have that. I didn't feed you my own demon blood when you were a child just to waste it now!"

Dean and Carmen both stared at Sam, but he wouldn't look at either of them.

"Sam?" Carmen called softly. "Demon blood? Did you know?"

Sam nodded minutely.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Carmen felt betrayed. She thought her and Sam had worked out their issues, that Sam could trust her with anything….

"Oh, you forgot to mention that little detail, huh Sammy?" The Demon instigated. "Well, I'm sorry to be the one to spill the beans." It cackled again.

"Listen, if you're going to kill us, get on with it already, cause I really can't stand the monologue." Dean said from the other side of the room.

"That's funny, Dean. But that's all part of your motive, isn't it? Mask all that nasty pain," The Demon taunted. "Mask the truth."

"Oh yeah? And what's that?"

"That you fight, and you fight for this family but the truth is that they don't need you! Not like you need them! You are the least important member in this dysfunctional, makeshift family you've got here. You try to convince yourself that they need you, but the truth is, they're better off without you. Sam and Carmen could be together, and John wouldn't have to deal with you anymore. Sam's clearly his favorite. He even shows the girl more affection than you, and she's not even his daughter."

"Dean, don't listen to him!" Carmen screeched. "He's lying, don't listen!"

"I'm just telling him what he already knows!" The Demon bellowed, finally looking at Carmen. He slowly came toward her, holding her gaze with his terrible yellow eyes.

"You know, Carmen. You and Dean are more alike than either of you know. Both tormented, both trying so hard to force it away. But maybe that's why the two of you just can't seem to stay away from each other." Its evil smile sent a shiver down Carmen's spine.

Dean's head snapped up.

"What?" Sam whispered incredulously. "Carmen, what's he talking about?"

Carmen could only shake her head with guilt.

"Oh, little Sammy doesn't know what happened while he was away at college?" The Demon continued.

"Don't you dare," Dean threatened, but the demon ignored him.

"Sam, you had visions of Carmen while you were away at school, but you didn't see everything. You saw Carmen crying over you, pinning over you, drinking because of you…but you didn't see Dean comforting her, holding her, kissing her…"

"Shut up!" Dean bellowed.

"…and making love to her." This time the demon's smile was more triumphant than ever. Sam's face betrayed the pain that The Demon's words inflicted on him. He looked from Dean to Carmen, his eyes pleading with them to tell him that what The Demon said was untrue.

"Carmen…?"

"I'm sorry, Sam." Carmen sobbed. He dragged his eyes away, unable to look at her any longer.

"So," The Demon said, "this chatting has been fun, but now, its time to move on. Sam, it's time for me to fulfill my promise to you, except I'm going to make a slight change in the plan. We'll save Carmen for last." It chuckled darkly.

The demon turned to Dean and narrowed his eyes at him, and Dean began to scream in pain. It was cutting him from the inside.

"NO!" Carmen yelled.

"No, Dean!" Sam screamed. He desperately tried to free himself from the psychic restraints, but it was no use. There was nothing they could do but watch as Dean's blood spread on the floor. He coughed, and it spurted from his mouth.

"NO!" Carmen bellowed again. She fought and kicked and screamed, but it was no use. "John! John, don't you dare let that demon kill him! John, you're stronger than this, you can fight him! Come on," she sobbed as useless tears streamed down her cheeks. "Come on, John, fight, FIGHT! You can't let Dean DIE!"

Dean suddenly stopped screaming. His eyes rolled back and his head lolled. Carmen held her breath.

"No," the demon whispered. It backed away from Dean. "This can't be! N-," it choked. Then John's body fell to the floor, and Carmen, Dean and Sam were freed from their restraints.

Dean fell to the floor, and Carmen and Sam were at his side in an instant. Carmen supported Dean's head in her lap.

"He lost a lot of blood," Sam said to her.

Carmen removed her jacket and covered Dean with it. He was trembling. "We have to get him to a hospital, now. There's too much damage; there's nothing we can do here."

Dean's eyes opened minutely. "Where's Dad?" He croaked out. The sound of his voice sent a wave of fear through Carmen.

"He's right here, Dean," Sam soothed.

"Go check on him…check on him." He whispered as his eyes rolled back into his head again. Carmen didn't notice the tears still streaming from her eyes. She gently stroked Dean's arm, his cheek. Her warm hands felt soothing to him on his ice-cold skin. She couldn't take her eyes off of his bloodstained face.

"Dad?" She heard Sam say softly as he put a hand on his shoulder, gently shaking him.

"SAM!" John's scream made Carmen jump. Her head snapped to Sam, who she saw suddenly stand up and stagger backward. "Sam, it's still in me, the demon is still in me! You have to shoot me son, now!" Sam aimed his gun hesitantly at his father's chest, but put his finger nowhere near the trigger. "Come on, Sam, we have to kill this thing! Shoot me, shoot me!"

"No," Dean whispered. Carmen could only gawk.

"Come on Sam, I can't hold it much longer! Now! You have to shoot me!" Sam put his finger on the trigger, but could not pull it. He stared at his father for a long moment before the demon erupted from John's body and disappeared into the floor.

They were all breathing heavily, except for Dean, who was barely breathing at all. John said nothing, but gave Sam the most disappointed look he had given him his entire life.

"Sam," Carmen said after a moment. Sam turned away from his father's disapproving eyes and looked at her. "We need to get them out of here."

"Get Dean in the car," he ordered.

Carmen practically dragged Dean's body to the backseat of the Impala, while Sam helped his father to the passenger's seat. She slid into the backseat, holding Dean, and Sam stared the car and sped away.

"What the hell happened back there, Sam?" John scolded when they got onto the long stretch of desolate road. "I thought you wanted this demon dead as much as I did. I thought we agreed it came before everything!"

Sam hesitated. He met Dean's eye in the rear view mirror. "No, Sir." He shook his head "Not everything."

Dean was leaning heavily on Carmen's shoulder, still trembling. There was nothing she could do but hold on to him and try to make him as comfortable as possible. She felt so helpless. She stroked his cheek with one hand. Dean slowly found her other hand with his, and, shivering tremendously, weaved his fingers through hers, craving her warmth. The gesture caused a lump to build in her throat. The affection she felt for Dean in this moment was overwhelming, and her face crumpled as she pressed her lips to his forehead, willing him to fight long enough to be saved.

But it was possible that none of them would be saved. Carmen turned to look out her right side window, the passenger's side, Dean's side, and saw two enormous headlights come crashing into the Impala in a mess of broken glass and bent metal. She instinctively attempted to shield the injured Dean by wrapping her arms around his head. She felt the slam, and everything went dark.


	12. Deception

**A/N: As always, I BEG for reviews! And shout outs to those who have been reviewing - You know who you are ;) Hope you like this chapter!**

* * *

Carmen's eyes fluttered open. Her vision was blurred and vertigo overtook her. She had no idea how long she'd been unconscious; it could have been seconds, it could have been hours. Closing her eyes, she tried to clear her head. A mac truck had slammed full force into the Impala; that couldn't have been a coincidence.

The sound of a car door slamming jolted her mind back to awareness. The truck driver stalked toward the Impala, its eyes black as ink, where her unconscious family was trapped. She weakly reached for the colt as the demon wrenched the back door open.

"Get. Away." She ordered through gritted teeth. It was not the demon that had been possessing John.

"You've only got three bullets left. You wouldn't dare waste one on me," It challenged.

"Try me," she barked with as much force as she could muster, which was meager, as she cocked the gun.

The demon stared her down for a moment, and then exited the trucker's body. He fell to the ground. The man awoke quickly, and ran away down the road.

Carmen paid him no attention. She exhaled a breath of relief and uncocked the gun. She let her head roll to the side weakly.

"Dean," she whispered as she put a bloodied hand to his face. She had no idea whose blood it was. "Dean," she sobbed again weakly, and his name was her prayer. His face was badly bruised and swollen, with several gashes painted scarlet with blood. There was hardly a piece of clean skin to be seen. She slowly put her ear to his mouth. He was faintly breathing. She faced forward and saw Sam's head tilted backward, unconscious.

Her stomach leapt_. Please don't let him be dead_, she willed in her mind. She called his name. There was no response. She called again, and again, nothing. She was overwhelmed; she began to cry uncontrollably.

She became aware of the smell of iron reaching her nose. It was almost asphyxiating and it made her retch. She opened the Impala door with a screech and tumbled out on to the wet ground, a cold sweat dripping from her forehead. She crawled to the driver's side and heaved herself up. Opening the door, she saw Sam's bloodied face and couldn't take her eyes off of him.

"Sam," she whispered. She ran a hand over his face, checking for damage. He was cut on his hairline, and his face was beat up, but there was no fatal damage. She checked his pulse; it was strong, much stronger than Dean's had been. She reached over and checked John's; it was faint, but present. He had taken the brunt of the impact. The smell of Sam's blood reached her again, and this time, she couldn't hold it down. She leaned over and spewed the blood from her stomach upon the ground. The sight of it sent fear through her body, and she suddenly felt so very alone. The last thing she could remember was trying to crawl back to Sam.

* * *

Carmen opened her eyes…

She was in a small dark room on a hard mattress. Sam entered with Dean's limp body on his back. She understood that he had carried first her, and now Dean from the wreckage to this cabin.

"Where's John?" She asked. The sound of her own voice, so scratchy and beaten, caught her off guard. She could still taste the metallic of blood in her mouth as she spoke.

"The car." Sam panted. Carmen went to retrieve her sweatshirt and headed for the door. She needed to get John before anything else got him. The demon that totaled the Impala would be back, she knew it.

"Carmen, it's too far. I just carried you from there are you were unconscious!" Completely ignoring him, Carmen took off. She heard Sam's frustrated curses behind her.

The night was cold and she could see her breath in front of her as she jogged. The Impala stood out in the deserted field, and it was striking to Carmen, as she got closer, how crumpled the car had become. It had hit Dean's and John's side head on…

As she ran closer to the crashed metal heap, she strained her eyes for a first glimpse of John. When she finally reached the car, she crossed over to the passenger's side.

"John?" She called out timidly. He was nowhere to be seen. "John!" She called again. Her heart sank when there was only the still night answering her calls, and once again she felt so very alone.

* * *

"He was gone."

"What do you mean, 'he was gone'"

"I mean he was gone, Sam! I got there and the window was cracked and the door was wide open and he was just _gone_!" Carmen could see the panic rising in Sam's eyes. Those eyes traveled to his unconscious brother lying on the table.

"Stay here." He commanded.

"What are you going to do?" She barked as he put on his khaki green jacket.

"Look for him, Carmen." It was a sarcastic remark.

"And what if the demon has him, Sam? It wants _you_; it's luring you right to it!"

"All the more reason to go."

"All the more reason for me to go with you!"

"No, stay here with Dean."

"Sam-"

"No, Carmen!" He bellowed at her. Carmen jumped, caught off guard. "I don't want you with me! Stay here in case Dad comes back and watch Dean. I know how much you love being with him."

And then he was gone, leaving Carmen staring after him with a stinging heart.

She turned her tortured eyes to Dean. Pulling up a chair next to him, she placed a hand on his bare chest (Sam had cut his shirt when he was cleaning and stitching him up). Sam had lit a fire, but it was nonetheless freezing in the cabin. Although she was already shivering, she pulled off her sweatshirt and placed it over him. He looked unnaturally peaceful. Dean was never peaceful.

They needed him. Carmen felt so lost without him. He would know exactly what to do to get John back. He would come up with a reckless and dangerous plan that would definitely be successful. She gently took his hand in hers.

"We're lost without you here, Dean. I'm lost. I don't know if you can hear me…but I need you to come back to us. Who's going to call me out on all my bullshit? Who's going to piece me back together every time Sam breaks my heart? Who's going to fight endlessly with me about things that don't even matter? I need you back, Dean. I love you so much." Fresh tears pricked her eyes once more. "So much." She kissed his hand softly before lying it back down, and rested her head on his chest. It continued its slow, albeit steady, rise and fall.

Before she knew it, Sam was shaking her awake. It was rare that Carmen let herself sleep so much; she thought she must be concussed. Upon awakening, she immediately placed a hand over Dean's chest to make sure he was still breathing, still with them. He was…but Carmen thought the motion had become shallower.

"Go get some sleep, Carmen. In a bed." Sam whispered to her.

"No. I'm fine. I'll stay up, you can sleep."

"I can't with Dad missing." Sam took out his cell phone and dialed John's number several times. No answer. "Dammit!" Sam cursed.

Carmen put her hand over Sam's to stop him from dialing. "He'll be okay Sam. Don't assume the worst. He's disappeared on purpose before."

Sam pulled his hand away from hers in an obvious gesture. It stung Carmen once again.

"Sam, we need to talk about the things The Demon said last night."

"No, we don't." Sam cut across her. "You have feelings for Dean. There's not much to talk about."

"No," Carmen tried her hardest to be gentle. "I love Dean, but I was never, at any time, in love with him. I took comfort in him. He's my best friend, and when I had a broken heart and soul, he was there for me the way I needed him to be. He didn't abandon me. Sam, you dated Jessica for almost a year. I never once gave you shit for that. You can't fault me for taking comfort in my best friend."

Sam said nothing for a long time. Carmen thought it was possible that he was choosing to ignore her. But finally, he heaved a long, deep sigh.

"Jessica wasn't as important to me as Dean is to you."

"But Jessica filled a different role in your life than Dean filled for me. Jessica was your lover. She took my place. Dean never took your place, Sam. And he wouldn't have had to be there for me like that if you had stayed with me. There was nothing else in the world that would dive me to need Dean's comfort that way except your betrayal."

"I didn't betray you."

"What? Sam, I gave you everything I had, my heart, my mind, my emotion, and you took and it LEFT!"

"Okay, okay, your right, I'm sorry." Sam engulfed her in his arms before she could get too worked up. "I'm sorry. I understand why you and Dean…. It just hurts. And I can't help but picture it…"

"Don't. The moment you were back in my life, Dean wasn't even a thought in my head. It's always been you, Sam. That's the kind of power you have over me, don't you know that?"

Sam look at her hard, and after a breath, said with a slight smirk, "I do, actually."

Carmen broke into a laugh as well, relief flooding her at seeing Sam's smile. She crossed the room and melted into his arms.

It was early morning when they finished talking, and a faint gold light spread over the grey room. Just as Carmen and Sam broke their embrace, the door to the Cabin creaked open, and John stood in the doorway.

"Dad?" Sam breathed. But Carmen was careful. She jumped up and grabbed the colt, cocking the trigger at once.

"Carmen, it's me." John rasped. She just narrowed her eyes. "Run the test," he commanded.

Sam slowly retrieved the holy water flask from inside Carmen's bag. He handed it to John, who first poured some out onto his skin for them to see, then took a generous gulp and swallowed greedily. He smiled down at his children. Carmen lowed her gun and heaved a relieved sigh.

"Dad, I looked everywhere for you. What happened?"

"Well I woke up and up and you three were gone. I got out and tried looking for you; we must have just kept missing each other. I saw the light on in the cabin this morning and figured it was you. How's Dean?"

Carmen glanced over to Dean's limp body. She thought he looked paler.

"I stitched him up, but I don't know…" Sam trailed off.

"He's going to be fine, son." John said calmly. Why was he being so nonchalant about his son on the cusp of death?

"So, the demon… it never came back?" Carmen asked, suspicious.

John just shook his head. "You both look like hell. Make a bed by the fire and get some rest. I'll take care of Dean."

"Dad, are you sure? We can stay with you."

"Don't argue, Sam. Get some sleep." With that, John took his seat next to Dean and didn't say another word. Carmen pulled the blanket towards the fire and covered herself and Sam with it. It provided little warmth.

* * *

In the bright afternoon light, Carmen awoke. The heat from the fire had not been sufficient enough in warming her through the night, but Sam's body had. She found herself wrapped around him, and detangled herself with dexterity. He stirred anyway.

An ominous feeling overtook her, penetrating to her soul and pounding in her heart. The feeling was gripping, something she had never before experienced. It was almost painful.

"Dean," she whispered to herself, and jumped up from her place next to Sam to check on him. She discovered the table, which had been his bed, deserted.

Her heart dropped out of her chest.

"Dean!" She called frantically, like a mother who had lost her child. "Dean!"

"What?" Dean called from behind her. She whipped around and saw him emerging from the darkened hallway.

"You're okay," she breathed, and leapt into his arms.

"Jesus, Carmen, I'm alive, but I did get hit by a mac truck last night. Easy."

"Sorry," she laughed. She felt such relief at seeing him that she felt unnaturally light. "You scared me so much! I thought you were…I didn't know if…"

"It's okay, Carmen, I'm fine." He soothed her, half laughing. "What the hell happened last night anyway? What happened to the son-of-a-bitch demon?"

"Got away," Sam's gravelly voice croaked form the corner.

"Was it yellow-eyes who hit us?"

"No," Carmen answered. "It was just one of his goons. I aimed the colt at him for a second and he bolted. He was much less powerful than yellow-eyes. He must have been afraid when John fought him off last night. Speaking of John…where is he?" Carmen cocked an eyebrow at Dean.

"You're asking me?" He asked, confused. "I don't know, I was unconscious, remember?"

"He wasn't here when you woke up?" Sam questioned from the corner once more.

Carmen's jaw dropped. No…the ominous feeling had returned, and it was biting into her soul once more. It nauseated her and made the room spin. John…

"I'll be right back," she mumbled shakily, turning towards the door. "I just have to go check something."

"Carmen?" There was worry in Sam's voice, but she ignored him and left the boys alone.

"What happened with her? She okay after the crash?" Dean asked his brother.

"I think so. She was really worried about you. We both were. But physically, I think she's fine. She scared the demon away, but after that she lost consciousness. I woke up and saw her on the ground lying in a pool of blood. It was scary, Dean. The whole night was scary."

And, as if on cue, a terrible, mind-numbing scream sliced through the air. Sam and Dean both sprang up and bolted out the door. Another horrifying scream ripped through the brothers' chests.

"Carmen!" Sam called. He found her around the back of the cabin, leaning against the wall for support. They ran to her, and realized she was sobbing. When they followed her gaze to where her wide eyes were glued, they saw what caused this painful screaming.

John's dead body lay helpless in the tall green grass.


End file.
